POEMS 



A- SKETCH 



^4 

0. 



IFE AJND f)xPEI^IEJMCE 



ANNIE R. SMITH. 



MRS. REBEKAH SMITH. 



MANCHESTER, N. H. 

JOHN B, CLARKE, PRINTER. 

1871. 



PREFACE 



A small volume of poems entitled, " Home Here 
and Home in Heaven," by Annie R. Smith, appeared 
shortly after her death, in 1855. Her numerous 
friends wishing some account of her life and last 
sickness, have from time to time desired me to pre- 
pare such a sketch for publication. I have also been 
requested to publish in connection therewith, a col- 
lection of my own poetical efforts. This is the im- 
mediate occasion of the appearance of the present 
volume, the publication of which, circumstances have 
conspired to delay till the present time. It lays no 
claim to literary merit, but professes to be only a 
description in rhyme of some of the ordinary experi- 
ences of life, and the common feelings of the heart. 
I have appended some additional pieces written by 
Annie R. Smith, and some by Uriah Smith, which I 
have desired to see published in this form. It is com- 



PREFACE. 



mended to the charitable consideration of friends, 
with the hope that its appearance may prove a grati- 
fication and a benefit to some. 

Mrs. Rebekah Smith. 

West Wilton, N. H. 



x9?*Q2j'^.^k^g^ jn9*^ 



POEMS. 



Lifers Conflict. 

In the deep recess of the inmost heart, * 

Where Satan tempts and angels come to shield, 

Are foes by which we would be overcome, 
Were Christ not with us on the battle-field- 

The tempter, seeking whom he may devour, 
Would sift as Avheat, and finally prevail ; 

But Jesus intercedes and prays for us. 

That faith in these dread conflicts may not fail. 

These calls unheeded, who the end can know? 

The Spirit grieved and angels forced to leave. 
The victims, though unconscious, hastening where 

No pardoning love is found, and no reprieve. 

If yet there's hope, one mighty effort make 

To conquer, and the enemy defeat ; 
Watch unto prayer, in Jesus Christ abide. 

And hasten to be made in him complete. 

No true enjoyinent here aside from this. 

No other name on earth e'er to be given. 
Through him we must be cleansed and purified, 

Or closed to us will be the gates of Heaven. 



POEMS 



Cliristian Love. 

Jesus sees, he feels, he pities ; he for us keen anguish 

knew. 
He was numbered with transgressors ; liarmless, but 

his friends were few. 
Those immersed in love's deep ocean, nothing will or 

can offend ; 
They will bow in sweet submission, knowing Heaven 

will them defend. 

Let us then our suffering brother seek where'er his 

lot is cast; 
Priests and Levites having seen him, on the other 

side have passed ; 
But of God he's not forsaken; He has known each 

bitter pang; 
He has seen his tears and sorrows, and has known 

from whence they sprang. 

Jesus sees when best to succor, every wrong will bring 

to light ; 
He will have obedient children who in doing good 

delight. 
Who will move in love and pity, bleeding wounds to 

soothe and bind. 
Good Samaritans, who ever seek some path of love to 

find. 

Courage new is then imparted, chilling words no 
more oppress ; 

Oh ! for more true kindred spirits, who would make 
our sufferings less. 

Lord forgive thine erring people ; form tliem for thy- 
self alone; 

Then they'll bear each other's burdens, calling nought 
they have their own. 



POEMS. 



Then each suffering child of sorrow would be watched 
with teniler care, 

Love and pity for the erring would be felt and wit- 
nessed there. 

Strife and jealousy would vanish ; love be felt that 
works no ill ; 

Peace, sweet peace, and joy and gladness, would each 
home and bosom fill. 



Love Not the World, 

Love not the world, trust not its joys; uncertain is 

their stay ; 
Its treasures I've so highly prized, on wings have 

flown away. 
Its riches I would not recall, their loss would not 

deplore ; 
Content I'll be if but my Lord salvation's joys restore. 

Nature inclines us all to seek, a rich and grand career ; 

Undue attachment will but make our losses more 
severe. 

Hardly we know how much we love our friends and 
things below, 

Till called to see them one by one from our possess- 
ion go. 

How often then the stricken heart deplores no com- 
fort left, 

Forgetting we have blessings still, of which we're not 
bereft. 

Let houses, lands and splendor go, surroundings all 
upset. 

If home is where we've friends to love, and friends to 
love us yet. 



POEMS. 



With such a home, no matter where, how unadorned 
the place,. 

If but my Lord's, he'll visit there, and with his pres- 
ence grace. 

Thus consecrated to the Lord, his glory Avill be there. 

How blest the place where oft is heard the voice of 
praise and prayer. 

Be I but meet for such a place, where angels camp 

around, 
Where truth and duty are proclaimed, and Avorks of 

love abound. 
The poor and friendless there resort and find their 

wants supplied, 
No lack whose trust is in the Lord ; for such he will 

provide. 

There all of every name and race, in need of friendly 
aid, 

Find equal welcome to the board where no distinc- 
tion's made. 

Thus treasures are laid up above, where endless life 
is given ; 

They who are rich in works of love, may hope for rest 
in Heaven. 

"^^^^^2^^^^^-^^:^ — • 

Preparation for Heaven. 

Our every sin must be confessed, 
All guile be taken from the breast; 
A holy life must we maintain, 
If with the Saviour we would reign. 

Be trimmed our lamps, our light appear, 
Proclaim we Jesus draweth near; 
That mercy's closing hour is nigh. 
Will be the angel's last loud cry. 



POEMS. 



Now are we drawing near the port, 
Decisions soon all made in court, 
The scene will close, the Lord will come,- 
And who with him will have a home ? 

To self w^e must be crucified, 
Be purified, made Avhite and tried, 
Without one spot, and guileless be, 
To stand before his Majesty. 

Oh ! be our sleeping powers awake ; 
Eternal bliss is now at stake; 
One wrong unrighted, spot or stain, 
Will bind in sin's destructive chain. 

Haste then, from every error fiec ; 
Strive till you gain the victory. 
Triumph in Jesus' name alone, 
And sit with him ujwn his throne. 

This right with his own blood he bought ; 
Oh ! bliss beyond all human thought, 
Where ransomed throngs the Lord adore. 
And sing free grace forevermore. 



Submission. 

The Saviour knows our every grief; 
He knows the time to give relief: 
When we are purified and tried, 
And our whole wills are sanctified. 

How to destroy our dross and tin, 
And cleanse us from each stain of sin. 
What to inflict, the Lord knows best ; 
'Tis only ours to stand the test. 



10 POEMS. 



What though we suffer grief and pain, 
And earth's fair prospects strew the plain, 
Let us submit, whate'er befall, 
And make our God our all in all. 

What though we're wrongfully accused, 
Oft times e'en slanderously abused? 
Say not these ills Ave cannot bear. 
But in our Saviour's suffering share. 

What he endured no tongue can tell. 
When on Him our transgressions fell ; 
Meekly he bore them on the tree, 
And paid the debt for you and me. 

He purchased holiness and Heaven, 
Or we could ne'er have been forgiA'cn. 
The Saviour's blood redemption cost. 
Without which all our race was lost. 

Shall we then sink beneath the rod. 
Inflicted by a holy God 
To purify and make us white. 
That he may be our sole delight? 

No ; though it sharply smites, resign, 
And pray for grace and love divine ; 
For all this, Heaven will make amends, 
And ofttimes quick deliverance sends. 

The Lord in him would have us free ; 
Through Him we gain the victory. 
All he will be to us we need, 
That we a holy life may lead. 

Be holy. Oh ! how blest to know. 
Our Father helps to make us so ; 
'Tis but for us to yield our will, 
His word and promise he'll fulfill. 



POEMS. 



11 



No guilt or fear, no will, no choice ; 
In God alone we now rejoice, 
And bless the hand that gave the hlow, 
And laid our earthly comforts low. 



It Was True, 

I loved th' enchanting- viol's sound, 

I loved the sprightly dance, 
And all the dear, delightful scenes 

Of nature's wild romance. 

I know the ftiscinating charms. 

In all their depth and hight, 
Presumed on days and months and years 

Of exquisite delight. 

Though seventy-six, I feel I still 
These halls of mirth could grace ; 

I left them when in youth * and sought 
In Christ a hiding place. 

But oh ! the bitter cup I drank 
That tamed my wild career ; 

Death struck my parents from my side 
And drowned my joy in tears. 

My dear loved home of childhood's years 

Where all was life and glee, 
Became a house of mourning, and 

Ere long no home for me. 

I've since formed nearer, dearer ties. 
And they too, have been riven. 

By these repeated strokes I've learned 
'There's nothing true but Heaven. 

At eighteen. 



12 POEMS 



My treasure's there, my heart is there, 

The prize I mean to win ; 
But know the victory must he gained 

O'er every darling sin. 

And may refiner's fire go through 

Till I am purified ; 
Till patience is perfected here, 

And all my graces tried. 

I'd bear the fieiy trial now, 

Till holy made and pure, 
That I Christ's image may reflect. 

And be in him secure. 

A home in Heaven will then be mine, 
A house not made with hands; 

Where Jesus will his saints receive, 
Who walk in his commands. 

Be it mine to walk the narrow way. 

Which my Redeemer trod, 
And in the City have a place 

Close by the throne of God. 

There friends will meet to part no more. 
Whose sins are here forgiven. 

I would not rest until I know, 
I have a home in Heaven. 



Xo liesfing Here, 

No re-ting place ! oh ! sail, oppressive thought ! 

The overlnirdcned heart o])prest with grief, 
Must bear its weight o'er sad reflection's tide. 

Fearing at last the fate of unbelief. 



POEMS. 13 



Is there one here, without one beam of hope 1 
Oppressed, desponding, bordering on despair 1 

Still sinking ^neath gloom's dark and heavy cloud, 
Not thinking e'er one cheering boon to share 1 

Lie still, e'en here, and search the hidden cause ; 

O'jer every sin has victory been won 1 
Then trust in God o'er this dark, dreary way. 

And say, Dear Lord, thy will, not mine, be done. 

The broken heart, the humble, contrite one, 
God will relieve from sin's dark, heavy load ; 

He will reveal himself a present help, 
And make for us a sure and safe abode. 

For such as these a resting place remains. 

When earth's dark scenes and trials all are o'er ; 

A home in Heaven where saints and angels are 
Chanting glad songs of glory evermore. 



Deny Thyself, 

The word we preach is nigh thee. 
Is in thy mouth and heart. 

To cease from every evil. 
From every idol part. 

The last decree, how solemn, 
Except we conquer now. 

No remedy can reach us, 
Nor pay our broken voav. 

While faithless, unrepentant, 
We cannot be forgiven. 

No mercy will be offered. 
No home for us in Heaven. 



14 POEMS. 



As well give np to perish, 

If Ave cannot deny 
Our appetites and passions, 

While Heavenly aid is nigh. 

Soon there will be no promise 
Of pardoning grace, now free. 

Ere Jesus ceases pleading, 
We must get victory. 

Soon with no mediator 
To help our ruined case, 

The filthy must be filthy, 
Bevond the reach of trrace. 



Baptism, 

We fail not, when Avatching, our duty to know. 
While Jesus makes out all our pathway below. 
When he bids be buried with him 'ncath the waA'e, 
Let nought keep us back from the watery grave. 

Go forward ; these waters are ever the place, 
Wlicrc Jesus is found with his presence to grace ; 
While angels make each of its subjects their care, 
And the Spirit of God sheds its blessedness there. 

Oh, blest institution ! the Lord owns it still, 

And moves on his pco])le liis word to fulfill; 

In newness of life will he help to arise, [prize. 

While they humbly press on toward the mark for the 

How'heavenly the sight of an ordinance like this; 
The pledge, it would seem, of ])erpetual bliss : 
God honored IjcIow, while his ]»e()])le rejoice, 
Making known to the world, they obey him from 
choice. 



POEMS. 15 



We'll follow the footsteps of Jesus, our King, 
Till we the olad songs of deliverance sing. 
We'll exalt him while here, we will love and adore, 
And with the redeemed sound his praise evermore. 



Despair of the Lost, 



Of our strength we are shorn by indulgence in sin ; 
Where Jesus has reigned, now there's no room within ; 
A host of his murderers dwell in the heart ; 
Rejected, though grieved, he's obliged to depart. 

As he goes who can know he will ever return ? 
That the blessing is lost we may soon have to learn, 
With a wail of despair, a lamentable cry. 
We may soon see ourselves forever passed by. 

Too late ! oh, too late! now my soul must he lost; 
Though redemption was offered at infinite cost ; 
Though help has been laid on one mighty to save ; 
To self and the world I the preference gave. 

Could the hope of salvation be given once more. 
Would we not turn our backs on our Lord, as before 1 
Would not the same spirit still bear the same fruit 1 
And the Lord still to us our transgressions impute 1 

Oh ! poor fallen man, rushing on to despair. 
With high hopes all anchored in earth's fatal snare. 
To be swept aAvay soon, with the refuge of lies. 
While the soul in deep anguish the second death dies. 



16 POEMS 



Depart from Sin, 

Could the deluded votaries 

Of fashion and of song, 
But see their danger, they would cry, 

We've ventured here too long. 

Yes, ventured o'er a precipice, 

Held by a brittle thread. 
While " fiery billows roll beneath " 

The slippery paths we tread. 

We've ventured to reject the call, 

In love and pity given. 
To flee sin's awful destiny, 

And seek a home in Heaven. 

Could tears prevail, could pity move, 
You would not longer stand. 

Exposed by every dashing Avavc 
In yon broad gulf to land. 

But tears and pity cannot save. 

Nor for one sin atone. 
Redemption's purchased with the blood 

Of Jesus Christ alone. 

The debt is paid ; salvation's free, 

Though Jesus' life it cost. 
And all who come to him he'll save ; 

Then why should you be lost ? 

Oh ! l)e entreated to forsake 

The road that leads to hell, 
And thus be fitted for the place 

Where saints and angels dwell. 



POEMS. 17 



Oldf hut Young, 

Infirmities of age have not 

As yet made me tlieir prey ; 
In social life I sometimes feel 

As one still young and gay. 

My spirits buoyant, hopeful, free, 

No cloud to intervene, 
Till I'm a wonder to myself, 

And ask what this can mean. 

Is there a dark and heavy cloud, 

Now gathering out of sight, 
To com J o'er this my cheerful path. 

And turn it into night? 

Well, be it so ; I'll now enjoy 

Life's blessings while I may, 
And meet its changes as they come, 

The footsteps of decay. 

At seventy-six we might expect 

Our life-lights to grow dim, 
The slow-paced step and wasted form. 

Though once erect and trim. 

'Tis nature's course ; time's withering blight 

Will come on all below. 
Be ready then for any change 

Time bids us undergo. 

Then when this earth is made anew 

All clothed in living green. 
Where blight, decay, and care-worn brows 

Are never to be seen, 



18 POEMS. 



We all sliall bloom immoi'tal, fair. 

In Eden beauty dressed, 
To share all Heaven's eteraal joys 

And be forever blessed. 



Passimf tli^ Gate. 

Lines on leaving the liouse of a dear friend where I had 
pleasantly spent several weeks. 

Down deep in the heart is a fountain of tears. 

Though seldom it flo^^■s to the eye ; 
'Tis not that I have not true interest and love, 

That I say not the sad words, Good bye. 

The aatc must be opened, and opened for me. 

For me to go out of the place, 
Where I have enjoyed the I>est bounties of earth, 

Where in love face has answered to face. 

As I passed through the gate, languag-e fails to express 

My deep-felt emotions of heart; 
'Twas leaving a home where was frcedoin and rest; 

And who else can such favors impart? 

Not that I was homeless ; another dear place 
AVas all ready, and waiting me, where 

Again I should'mingle with children and friends ; 
But oh! there's life's burden and care. 

'Tis not that I'd shun them, and useless remain. 
That I felt thns while passing the gate; 

But feelings Avhich beckon to higher results, 
Thoughts I may not attemi)t to relate. 



POEMS. 19 



When fortune's wheel turns, will the q:ate opened be, 

Be opened for me to come through ? 
Shall I find the same friends and the dear quiet room, 

And my former engagements pursue ? 

To Him who controls all the myriad worlds, 

With Him would I leave each event ; 
I would move in his order, and walk in his light, 

And know that my time is well spent. 

Then whether I ever that gate pass, or not. 

Those loved ones again ever see, 
The gates of the City will open for all 

Who its glories and beauties Avould see. 

Trust all to God. 

We wait on God, ouv. strength renewed, 
Our love of self and pride subdued, 
We then can cruel slander bear, 
Nor ask why we these sufferings share. 

We may exalted be by men, 

Be censured and condemned ; what then ? 

Our worth is in the Lord alone, 

To whom our thoughts and acts are known. 

That I am God, know and be still. 
Though wrongfully you're suffering ill. 
How many sins committed where 
No eye has seen, yet still I spare. 

Be humble, meek, and low of heart, 
Nor from my holy law depart. 
Thus will your strength be oft renewed. 
And you with holy zeal imbued. 



20 POEMS 



In that dread day you then can stand. 
Where rocks are rent, and solid land 
And mountains shake, and cities fall ; 
I'll be your strength, yoiir God, your all. 

From earth's dread ruins you'll be caught, 
To God's celestial city brought, 
Robed in a pure and spotless di'ess, 
The robe of Christ's own righteousness. 

Then every stain will be erased 
From reputations now defaced ; 
And where was anguish, gi'ief and tears. 
Now smiles and bliss and joy appears. 

To be foreA-er with the Lord, 
To share the infinite reward. 
To sit with him upon his throne, 
To see and know as we are known. 

In everlasting songs divine, 
In sweetest union all will join. 
Who can describe the bliss there'll be, 
When blessed with immortalitv ? 



The Vanity of Earth, 

Sickness prostrates ; helpless sufferer, ] 
Who can stem the son-owing tide ? 

Oh ! how vain, when death approacheth, 
Earthly pleasures, wealth and pride. 

Though your][name may be illustrious. 
Handed down through ages yet, 

Worldly honor and distinction, 
We shall all ere long forget. 



POEMS. 21 



Weeping friends may stand around you, 
Flattering prospects urge your stay ; 

But compelled by the destroyer, 
To be launched from earth away. 

Past reflections, oh ! how painful, 
If not answered life's great end ; 

Time all spent in vain delusion, 
Now no hope, no God, no friend. 

Who can paint the bitter anguish. 

Felt at such a time as this ; 
Soon to leave those cherished idols, 

Purchased with unending bliss. 

Though we gain the world, what profit, 
If we lose our souls at last? 

Buy the gold, the shining raiment, 
Ere the day of grace is past. 



Dying Words, 

There was one who to me was most lovely and dear ; 
I looked, and that loved one I saw disappear ; 
My dear, only daughter, who in life's early years, 
Has gone to the grave, and has left me in tears. 

The words of her parting, were, Jesus is mine ; 
He'll save, and I shall in his own likeness shine. 
To God be all glory ; Heaven's opened to me ; 
I shall rise with the saints, and immortal shall be. 

My brothers, be wise and obey Heaven's laws ; 
Seek the Saviour to please and to honor his cause ; 
Rest not till you know all your sins are forgiven. 
Oh ! fail not, my brothers, to meet me in Heaven. 



22 POEMS. 



My mother, be ready to meet me that clay, 
Nor mourn that here with you no lon_<>:er I stay. 
Prepare for the trouble that soon is to come — 
Who then will enjoy his own loved quiet home ? 

I die in the Lord, from my labors to rest 
With the dead, of whom it is said, ''They are blest." 
For me bid fareAvell to the loved and the true, 
May we meet where is heard no mournful adieu. 

My mother, I'm dying, but Jesus is here ; 
With him I have nothing of evil to fear. 
Thus peaceful she died, but still lingered the trace 
Of the image divine on her cold pallid face. 

In the lone, quiet tomb where she's longed to repose, 
She rests from life's cares, from its "burden of woes," 
Beside her loved father, to memory dear — 
O'er the graves of these loved, I withhold not the tear. 



The Slave of A]ypetUe, 

What stings of conscience men will bear, 

Their tastes to gratify ; 
Resolve and re-resolve, and still 

Themselves cannot deny. 

They say, " I'd give a thousand worlds 

Could I the victory gain." 
Your cause is just, to conquer here, 

And all your rights maintain. 

" What use," you ask, "to say I will. 

And almost know I shan't ; 
I've tried, and tried, and tried again, 

To quit, but oh! I can't." 



POEMS. 23 



Well, be it so ; yoitr course pursue, 

But what will be the end ■? 
Your conscience soon will be so seared, 

You'll want no other friend. 

Chief of the comforts you enjoy, 

What comfort now you take. 
When you're deprived of these, how sad, 

Gloomy and desolate. 

Why thus ■? Your nerves are all unstrung ; 

You're almost ruined now. 
Does patience have her perfect work, 

While thus you break each vow? 

When Avorn with toil, how soon you seek 

Your coffee, rum, or tea ; 
When trouble comes, these are your gods, 

To which for help you flee. 

Another, all his senses gone, 

When giving up his quid. 
In irritation mourns his lot, 

From him all good seems hid. 

The poisonous weed, the deadly drink 

Are eagerly pursued ; 
So are they loved, men hardly wish 



Their appetites subdued, 

The exhilarating influence 
When loved, who will forego ? 

The sad effects of these produce 
The sum of human woe. 

Not we alone the siifferers are ; 

Our friends must bear a part; 
The animation felt by ns 

With them is a broken heart. 



24 P O E 31 s . 



An oft untimely grave the lot, 

Of those thus OA^ercome ; 
What desolation then is felt, 

In their once peaceful home ? 

Ere vigor, health, and life are gone. 

Rouse every latent power ; 
The victory gained, again you're blest, 

Within your own loved bower. 

Heed not the tempter when he comes. 
And pleads once more to yield j 

Have vou not fullv yet resolved, 
To shun this battle-field ? 

Why risk the victoi'v you have gained ? 

Your resolution lost 
This once might prove your ruin here. 

And life eternal cost. 

Try once again, while there is hope 

To conquer and to live ; 
God wall, if you will let him, help. 

And all the past forgive. 

He'll help to get the victory ; 

And victory must be gained, 
Or no resolve to break the hold, 

AVill ever be maiutaiued. 

Not victory for a single day, 

A week, a month, a year ; 
But victory that will stand the test 

While we continue here. 

A victory that will overcome 

Inordinate desire, 
To gratify perverted taste, 

By habit made entire. 



POEMS. 25 



The conflict rages fiercely on ; 

Here victory, then defeat ; 
But faint not, you can overcome, 

And make your foes retreat. 

An armor for us is prepared, 
. A helmet, sword and shield. 
And He who mighty is to save. 
Is with us on the field. 

Experience can alone impart 
The joy of sins forgiven, 

Freedom in God while here below, 
And soon a home in Heaven. 



All Trials Cease, 

[A young lady passing through great trials, accidentally 
met with a piece of poetry, and was greatly comforted and 
relieved from her sorrow by the last line, " All trials cease 
in Heaven, at home with God."] 

Are we assured our home's in Heaven ? 
That all our sins are now forgiven 1 
Do we with all the heart believe. 
And God's approving smile receive'? 

Is every weight now laid aside ? 
The last besetting sin denied? 
God then to us this knowledge gives : 
" I know that my Redemer lives." 

This consciousness must piirify, 
And bring eternal glories nigh. 
Though here Ave bear affliction's rod, 
No tears " iu Heaven, at home with God." 



26 POEMS. 



No suflfcring- there ; " all trials cease, 
In Heaven at home with God," is peace. 
Yea, more than this, all there unite, 
In sweetest anthems of delight. 

There will they hallelujahs sing, 
In honor of their Heavenly King- ; 
Forever there, t\vAr voices raise, 
In songs seraphic to his praise. 

This glory Jesus' word reveals ; 
Each promise with his Wood he seals. 
We're sure, if here to him we come, 
To be in Heaven with God at home. 



To Ell en a Bout well. 

And is there another dear loved one for me ? 
May a strong cord of union now bind me to thee ? 
Would you call me your mother ? Permit in return. 
That I call thee my child, and your history learn. 

Pleased with your demeanor, and turn of your mind. 
With attractions I seem to see in thee combined ; 
But few would take interest in one of my age, 
Though he might be an artist, a bard or a sage. 

Though past man's alloted threescore and ten years, 
Though I've passed through afflictions, in sorrow and 

tears. 
In feeling still young, and in sympathy true, 
I would iiave the world better for my passinj^ through. 

I'm glad I have seen you : Pve one more to love, 
On whom to ask blessings that come from above. 
This friendship new-formed — may it ever increase, 
And we find in Jesus true heavenly peace. 



POEMS. 27 



To Aaron A, Sinithf 

Oil his leaving to join the Army. 

For one who can fill such a phicc in the choir, 
Whose mufeical talents none can but admire, 
Who is loved and looked up to as teacher and guide, 
To leave for the war, will be felt far and wide. 

But it is not, dear nephew, for earth's vain delight, 
That you leave home and friends for vour country to 

It is for the Union — our rights to maintain — 
That you go where the strife piles its thousands of 
slain. 

Good bye ! God protect you ; on his arm rely, 
There is safety for no one except from on high. 
We are safe only while we in Jesus abide ; 
He's our rule, he's our pattern, our only sure guide. 

Be careful to follow where he leads the way ; 

Let nothing entice from his footsteps to stray. 

May he keep you from falling and lead you safe 

throu-gh 
To the home and the friends you are biddins: adieu. 



To Samuel. 

Good morning, you said, as you left for your bride, 
For the one in whom you so truly confide. 
Good morning, my son, Heaven's blessings attend, 
As you take a companion, a dear, chosen friend. 

I'm happy in thinking you'll brino; home a wife 
To take the direction in things of this life, 
May her interest and aim be all one with us hei'e. 
And she be to mother a dausrhter mo^t dear. 



28 POEMS, 



The sister, the daughter, and wife, all combine; 
The home of her childhood she too must resign. 
Though former companions may not be forgot, 
New duties, new trials will fall to her lot. 

Be tnxe and aifectionate, ahvays the same ; 
One in heart as you now are to be one in name, 
Wherever she is, be it your joy to come; 
While each can say truly, " There's no place like 
home." ^ 

You've doubtless informed her you intended your 

mother 
Wou.ld have a home with you, and also your brother, 
That she unexpectedly might not find these. 
To add to her household, to care for and please. 

You've been an affectionate, dutiful son ; 
Everything in your power, for my comfort you've 

done ; 
You've said this attention you owed me through life — 
Oh ! I'd be a rich blessing to your and your Avife. 

Should I be a burden still greater to bear. 

The daughter and wife in the trial must share. 

Think then of my aire, over seventy years, 

And bear with me though I cause sorrow and tears. 

Though fretful, impatient, not suited at all. 
And you think it best not to mind every call, 
Kemeinl)er past seasons, my kindness, and know 
I would have you as blest as one could be below. 

And in the new earth when all trials are o'er, 
I would he with you there to have life evermore. 
An uni)roken band may we all there appear, 
The father, the mother, the children so dear. ' 



POEMS. 29 



We should there know each other, and all we've been 

through, 
While Annie would greet her dear brothers anew 
And Harriet and Frances* would help swell the song, 
Of Heaven's free grace, with the numerous throng. 



My dearest Samuel, through life's scenes 
I'd thought to live Avith thee, 

But providentially a change, 
Has taken you from me ; 

Dear child you need not fear for me. 

Those kind words, " Mother, live with me. 
As then are now the same ; 

Unshaken is my confidence, 

That you are just the same. 

To-day, the very, very same. 

Oh ! how ray heart goes after thee, 
My dear, loved, cherished son, 

Your father's name and image bear, 
As does no other one ; 

I see the once-loved in my son. 

I see thee oft in fancy's view, 

And love to see thee so ; 
I'm happy that to your new home, 

I'm wholly free to go ; 
My son to your home I can go. 

It is my choice ; I would be here, 

I love to be alone, 
I love this quiet solitude, 

I love the wild wind's moan ; 
My child, I would be here akme. 

* Daughters-in-law. 



30 POEMS. 



Yet not alone, another son 

Is with me all the while. 
Though frail in health, he cares for me, 

And greets me with a smile ; 
He does my lonely hours beguile. 

Another too, though far away, 

Away now at the West — 
With three kind sons to care for me. 

Most signally I'm blest; 
Be Heaven our place of linal rest. 

The husband and the daughter sleep ; 

Thus fi-iends are parted here, 
But they in joy will live again. 
When Jesus shall appear, 
To dry each Christian mourner's tear. 
February, 1865. 

Lilies 

Writleii on the death of Annie R. Smith. 

Let Annie sleep ; her rest is with the dead ; 
All sorrow past, her last sad tear is shed; 
Why call to mind the sufforinirs here she bore. 
When now with her they are forever o'er? 

Why ope the wound — tluit wound so deeply given. 
When from the ]):irent tree this branch was riven ? 
Oh ! spare thy tears, wake not the fount of grief; 
No human power can aid or give relief. 

Slie died in hope of living evermore^ 
With those she loved, when Tinie's last scene is o'er. 
When Jesus comes, we trust there'll be a place 
Prepared for her with all tlie ransomed race. 



POEMS. 31 



Shall wc then see her in immortal bloom, 
Risen triumphant from the silent tomb '^ 
Shall we there meet her all in bright array, 
And spend in Heaven with her an endless day ? 

Shall we behold the glorious city fair, 
And by the King of kings be welcomed there 1 
To eat with her the fruit of earth made new, 
And give to Jesus praise and glory due / 

Oh, 'tis enough ! Let earthly sorrow cease, 
While Jesus says in him Ave shall have peace. 
That God in us may his designs fulfill, 
We'll meekly suffer all his holy will. 



To My 3Iothei\ 

BY ANNIE R. SMITH. 

My lot has been to roam 
Far from the cheering light of home, 
Mid scenes of commotion, turmoil and strife, 
Temptation and snares that beset tliis life. 
Oh ! yonder I see a beacon light gleaming. 
O'er the dark wave its lustre is beaming, 
Dear mother ! as the light to the mariner lost, 
So thou to the bark on the billow tossed. 

My lot has been to meet 

The bitter mixed with transient sweet; 

To struggle on, in toil and care, 

The tide of adverse fate to bear. 
Oh ! yonder I see a tender vine, twining 
Around a tree, its tendrils are shining ; 
Dear mother ! as the vine twines around the tree. 
So from life's rude blasts I cliuu- to thee. 



32 POEMS. 



My lot has been to feel 

Dark shadows o'er my spirit steal ; 

From slanderous tongues, and envy's wiles, 

Deceit that lurked 'neath wreathing smiles. 
Oh ! yonder I see the floweret's hue ; 
Reviving 'neath the pearly dew. 
Dear mother ! as the dew to the drooping flowei', 
So thou to me in soiTow's dark hour. 

My lot has been to learn 
Of friendship false, that bright Avill burn 
When fortune spreads her wing of light, 
But fades away when cometh night. 
Oh ! yonder I sec a bright star sparkling. 
While all ax'ound lies cold and darkling. 
Dear mother ! as the star thou art in weal or wo. 
The darker the night, the brighter the glow. 

• My lot has been to pore 
Learning's classic pages o'er ; 
Seeking for hidden pearls to wear, 
Fame's golden wreath, the victors bear. 

Oh ! yonder I see a lone bird flying, 

Seeking her nest with voice of sighing. 

Dear mother ! as the Avearied bird her downy nest. 

So seek I thee, for quiet rest. 

My lot is now to tread 

A troubled path M'hence light hath fled ; 

But ne'er do I thy words forget, 

Or smiles of love from thee I've met. 

I think of thee in morning's beaming light. 

In burning noon and shadowy night. 

Dear mother! mid all my thoughtless wanderings 

wild. 
Still clings to thee thv devoted child. 



POEMS. 33 



Whate'cr my future lot may be, 
On life's tempestuous trackless sea, 
Oh, may I never, where'er I roam, 
Forget the cheering- light of home. 
That blessed light to the wanderer given. 
To guide the way that leads to Heaven. 
Dear mother ! to thee may I cling till life is o'er, 
And united above — we part nevermore. 



Response, 

Dear Annie : 

What though thy lot has been to bear 
Much adverse fate, 'mid toil and care, 
Raised expectations crushed and dead. 
And hope's triumphant visions fled? 

Dost thou not feel a mightier power, 
A hand divine in this dark hour? 
Does not thy heart begin to feel 
The claims of Him who wounds to heal ? 

'Tis true, my child, misfortune's blast 
But bi'eaks the rock whence gems are cast; 
The polished steel and marble white, 
Was once as rough and dark as night. 

As purest gold and clearest glass 
Must through the hottest furnace pass, 
So oft repeated strokes are given. 
To form and fit a soul for Heaven. 

What though you've learned of envy's wiles, 
The slanderous tongue, which oft beguiles 1 
The sweetest fruit on busb and trees, 
Is culled and plucked by bii'ds and bees. 
3 



34 POEMS. 



Although you've traced the landscape fair, 
And sought for knowledge rich and rai'e. 
Gone to the depth of hiclden ore. 
That richest mine you might explore, 

Lines " To my Mother," more I prize 
Than all the paintings 'neath the skies ; 
And they will ever bring to. me, 
Dear child, sweet memories of thee. 

Although I prize the painter's art. 
Yet more th' efFasions of the heart ; 
Kind feelings, sympathy and love. 
All arts and wealth I prize above. 

Since then these trials but refine, 
Bring out deep caverns' hidden mine, 
Resign all to that ])ower on high, 
Till sufferinsrs cease and sorrows die. 



Lines 

To a mother whose son enlisted in the array. 

For a mother to part, for the war, with a son, 
Whose kindness and love her affections have won, 
Cannot but excite deep emotions of grief. 
And in tears ihe toni bosom will seek for relief. 

Commend, in submission, this loved son to Heaven, 
And thank Him who gave, that to you he was given ; 
That he leaves here a circle of associates dear. 
Who his memory and name will delight to revere. 

In the family circle his ]:)lace will be missed, 
And some may regret that he felt to enlist, 
While others look forward, still hoping to sec 
Him back in the choir, where his place used to be. 



POEMS. 35 



If God has a work for him still here to do, 
His eye will be on him to bring him safe through. 
He will suffer no harm to befall him while there ; 
As a man spares his own son, so God will him spare. 

But nought of the future to us is revealed ; 
His destiny and ours is most wisely concealed ; 
'Tis for us to submit; be our lot what it may, 
And all the requirements of Heaven obey. 



Lines 

Read at a gathering of the oldest people of Wilton, at 
Miss Sarah Livermore's, November, 1870. 

Now far advanced in life we're here. 
To visit one long held most dear ; 
Though we have all been young and gay. 
Time's rolling years have worked decay. 

Though lingering here on earth's broad shore, 
Life's journey must be nearly o'er ; 
And may this friendly, gathering call, 
A blessing prove to one and all. 

Convened here, then, be this our aim, 
To make each other glad we came ; 
In union these rich blessings share. 
And say7 'Twas good that we were there. 

Refreshed, we'd patiently pursue 
This last part of our journey through. 
On those who entertain these guests. 
Would ask that they be doubly blest. 



36 POEMS. 



We would not fail while here to see 
All we're required to do and be. 
Would advocate and teach the ri^rht, 
Still hastening toward perfection's hight. 

Earth's pleasxires then will be increased 
By this delightful, social feast, 
And we prepared to meet in HeaA'^en, 
Where joys eternal will be given. 



Lines 

On the death of my husband, Samuel Smith. 

Gone is my husband, no more shall I see 
That kind look of love as he smiled upon me. 
I cherished and loved him ; and avIio can tell 
My anguish while on his departure I dwell ? 
Long I have been with hira, in sickness and health, 
Shared in his losses, and enjoyed with him wealth ; 
He lives in my memory, lives in ray heart , 
His virtues are printed there, ne'er to depart. 

Fast were we joined by the tenderest ties, 
And lonely I mourn o'er the grave where he lies. 
I hear not his steps, but the lone place I see. 
Where oft his kind words have been spoken to me. 
I miss him Avhile gather the shadows of night ; 
I miss him when dawns the fair morning light. 
I miss him — but where are the words to express 
The depth of my grief in such loneliness. 

I smile when I'm sad, and seem joyful in grief; 
When alone bitter tears are my only relief; 
Bruised now is the heart bv the blow that has come, 



POEMS. 37 



Dark now the dear spot, once so bright as my home. 

Though wealth were my portion, and splendoi; sur- 
round, 

More empty 'twould seem while the loved was not 
found. 

With him I'd be blest, though earth's treasures were 
few, 

And trouble should prove my aftection more true. 

Oft I imagine each member is here, 

TJjose pledges of love and affection so dear, 

I view the loved circle, but ah ! there's a space — 

'Tis vacant, and nought can to me fill the place. 

But those left behind, his dear image reveal. 

Who only affection and sympathy feel ; 

Their kindness I know, the returns of their love, 

And ask for them blessings that come from above. 

But he's gone to the grave, where, free from all care, 
He knows not the grief which for him I now bear. 
There rest till our Saviour shall bid thee arise; 
Then may we immortal ascend to the skies. 
With this hope I can triumph o'er earth's deepest 

gloom. 
The dearest and loveliest can yield to the tomb ; 
When bowed in submission, my Saviour appears, 
Bids me trust in his word, and refrain from my tears. 



Looh Ui}, 

Lone Pilgrim, cease that mournful sigh — 
Look up ! redemption draweth nigh. 
Have loved ones gone, does eai^th look drear? 
Look up ! shed not that bitter tear. 



POEMS. 



What though the heart is saddened now, 
And shadows gather on thy brow, 
And grief the bosom heaving still — 
Look up ! submit to Heaven's own Avill. 

Do trials, unexpected, rise ? 
Look up ! and view the glorious prize ; 
Let not life's sorrows press you down — 
Look up ! prepare to take the crown. 

Lift up your head, rejoice and sing — 
Look up ! by foith behold your King. 
He soon is coming, heed his call — 
Look up ! and make your God your all. 

He'll come, all troubles here to end, 
He'll come, a never-failing friend. 
He'll come to take his children home — 
Look up ! and pray. Lord, quickly come. 



Overcoming Sin. 

How fiercely does the conflict rage within. 
While striving to subdue some cherished sin ; 
What shall be done ? The idol is most dear, 
And often is the victim vanquished here. 

Though trivial it may seem, sin's poisonous dart 
Will sting the coiisciencc and will wound the heart. 
Destroy the peace and condemnation bring, 
And drive us from the shelter of His wing. 

In view of this, who dare a sin commit ? 
Our cherished idols we must all submit ; 
As one small leak the largest ship will sink. 
So one dear sin, will lead to ruin's brink. 



POEMS. 39 



While love for sin in any form remains, 
Though not committed, we are still in chains ; 
Sins must be broken off by righteousness, 
And then will God deliver, own and bless. 

No condemnation then — all peace within, 
Untrammeled freedom from the love of sin ; 
Oh ! blessed freedom ! nought can then control 
The heavenward flight and rajDture of the soul. 



Will Yon be a Pilgrim? 

Will you come in with the pilgrims, though a rem- 
nant the}^ may be, 

And know the blessed privilege of gospel liberty ? 

Will you take the name of Christ, and be redeemed 
by sovereign grace. 

And iind in him from every storm a sure, safe hiding- 
place ? 

Will you part with earth's delusive joys, with all its 
vain delights, 

And "bear the consecrated cross," to have the Chris- 
tian's rights ? 

They have a right to call on God; and he's vouch- 
safed his aid. 

The ancients said. We'll trust in thee, nor ever be 
dismayed. 

They said, 'Tis nothing, Lord, with thee, with many or 
with few. 

To put a mighty host to flight, and all our foes sub- 
due. 

Will you go against the multitude, in his own strength 
and name ? 

He fought their bat-ties and he's still unchangeably the 
same. 



40 POEMS. 



Their hope's an anchor to the soul, both sure and 

steadfast too, 
And buojs their spirits up in all the conflicts they go 

throuf^h. 
Will you have this hope to cheer you, to an unfading 

crown — 
A crown that fav outshines this world, with all its 

grand renown ? 

They've no abiding city here, but look for one to 

come, 
A glorious city all illumed, to be their final home. 
Oh ! will you suffer sorrow here, and have a home in 

Heaven, 
A kingdom that will shortly be, to all the faithful 

given 1 



^^^fS^s-^ — • 



Home foi^ tJie Weary, 

If there's rest for the Aveary, a home for the meek, 
Hope for the trembling and strength for the weak. 
Take courage, worn pilgrim, nor sink in despair. 
While braving the storms that but hasten us there. 

The waves and the billoAvs will over us go, 

And waters most bitter will oft overflow. 

Our hearts with fierce conflicts and anguish be riven, 

But hope to the end; there's salvation in Heaven. 

Oh, Avho will endure the last searching test, 
With Abrah'm and Isaac and Jacob be blest 
In the kingdom of God ? and who Avill be lost. 
To find when too late, what earth's pleasures have 
cost ? 



POEMS. 



41 



Shall we cling, then, to what Christ would have us 

give up ? 
Oh, no ! grieve him not, and he with us will sup. 
He'll shelter us here in the last coming strife. 
And give us to drink of the water of life. 

How blest to be ready and waiting to hear 
The last trumpet sound, and see Jesus appear ! 
Such then will rejoice that redemption has come. 
Be changed to his image, and received to their home. 



The Enemy's Power, 

Kev. xii, 12. 

As Satan has in wrath come down, 
To bring us 'neath our Maker's frown, 

, We must resist his course. 
He'll bring beneath his dread control 
The doubting, disobedient soul. 
By his Satanic force. 

Where least expected his attack. 
To lead us to perdition back, 

And claim us as his own. 
Alarming are his Avily arts. 
Most fearful, too, his fiery darts, 

When undiscovered thrown. 



Armed and equipped we must be sure, 
His fierce temptations to endure, 

His fatal snares to meet. 
'Tis easy going with the tide ; 
In Jesus Christ we must abide, 

And be in him complete. 



I 



42 POEMS. 



There's no true consolation here, 
But to be holy in our sphere, 

From condemnation free. 
When all our foes within are slain, 
The tempter then comes but in vain. 

With Heaven he'll ne'er agree. 

The humble, merciful and just, 
In God who wholly put their trust. 

Shall find protection sure. 
Their fortress, shield and firm defense. 
Is nauffht less than Omnipotence, 

With strength given to endure. 

Those who in God securely stand. 
When thousands fall at their right hand. 

No plague will them come nigh ; 
They're safe 'neath Heaven's sheltering wings, 
'Mid crash of worlds, all earthly things. 

Which will in ruin lie. 

Thus guarded here, when all is o'er, 
They'll be Avith those who die no more. 

Forever safe in Heaven, 
Where all is union, peace and love. 
Made welcome to the courts above. 

Where life eternal's given. 

But we are here on dangerous ground ; 
Some will be weighed and wanting found. 

Will from the truth depart, 
Will false, delusive spirits heed, 
And pride and arrogance Avill feed, ' 

And harden still the heart. 

When self, that mighty foe, prevails 
To conquer, every effort fails ; 
Self will be gratified, 



POEMS 



43 



E'en at the expense of present peace, 
Till conscience' warning voice will cease, 
And self feel justified. 

And some, in view of being lost. 
Will self indulge, whate'cr the cost. 

Nor think to be forgiven. 
Their dearest idol bears such sway, 
So loved, their practice does but say. 

If one must go, 'tis Heaven. 

A course deliberate thus pursued. 
Instead of having self subdued. 

Eternal life they'll lose. 
They'll bear the burden of their guilt, 
For which the blood of Christ was spilt. 
And go the way they choose. 

Justice will utter. Let them go. 
They've proved their final overthrow — 

Their day of grace is past. 
May those who're not yet given o'er. 
Repent, ere closed is mercy's door, 
And thus be saved at last. 



Sustaining Grace. 

Homeless was my blessed Saviour, 
Patient, too, mid all his grief; 

Why be downcast;, sad, desponding. 
When he'll freely give relief? 

Oh, 'tis not that I am homeless, 
Nor that I am suffering pain ; 

But my Saviour seems hid from me, 
And my hope does not sustain. 



44 POEMS. 



I Avoulcl daily haA'e the ■witness, 
That my dear Kedeemer lives ; 

That he's interceding- for me, 
And my every blessing gives. 

Live then for tliis blest approval, v 

Not one sin allow a place ; 
God commands us to be holy, 

While we run the Christian race. 

He is holy Avho hath called you ; 

So be ye, in word and deed ; 
To enjoy the Saviour's presence, 

We must to our ways take heed. 

None can have this full salvation, 
While to one known sin a slave ; 

Jesus came to free and pardon, 
And from sin his people save. 

Fearless then go forth to battle, 

Conquering sin through Christ the Lord : 
He'll assist while we're obedient 

To the teachings of his word. 

Glorious conquests have been witnessed ; 

God for ever is the same ; 
We may all be strong and mighty, 

Throutih his great and holv name. 



Go Forward, 

Stay not halting, be decided ! 

With God's people take your place. 
They who seek a home in Heaven 

All must run the Christian race. 



POEMS 



45 



Thouo^h the Red Sea is before you, 
And the Egyptians in the rear, 

Venture forward, no retreating, 
Linger not a moment here. 

If you go, you can hut perish ; 

Onward move Avhere God can save. 
Hasten ere you're with the wicked, 

Sinking ^leath the swelling Avave. 

God here meets his trusting people, 
Makes a passage through the deep. 

He'll display his power in saving 
Those Avho his commandments keep. 



Why Art Thou Cast Doivn? 

Why this dark depthof grief and gloom, this anguish 

and despair ? 
The unpardonable sin you mourn, is not yet yours to 

bear. 
Why thus disquieted, cast down ? Hope thoir in 

God ; he'll give 
The very blessing you most need ; look up to him 

and live. 



This crushing weight of heartfelt grief, this flow of 

sorrow's tide, 
Will ere long bring the sad report. Of broken heart 

he died. 
God knows what has befallen you, knows why the 

sore event ; 
Wait until he shall show you why this bitter cup was 

sent. 



46 POEMS. 



Be at your post, where'er it be; the claims of life 

fulfill. 
Be no one act or motive wrong ; heed Heaven's own 

bidding still. 
Then let the "hail sweep o'er your path, let storms in 

fury rise, 
God will in safety bring you through to mansions in 

the skies. 

He's at the helm, he'll guide the ship through every 

dangerous strait, 
And make you welcome when within the holy city's 

gate. 
No bitter scenes of heartfelt grief, though now with 

anguish riven, 
Will meet you in that world of bliss, the holy calm 

of Heaven. 



Trust, 

My cause is with my blessed Lord, he does my foot- 
steps guide ; 

He's led me in an unknown way, and laid my plans 
aside ; 

He's hedged up all ray well-laid schemes, or what 
seemed so to me, 

And oh ! wliat wisdom I behold, now his designs I 
see. 

I'll glory in his holy name, and prav, Lord guide me 
still; 

In each event submission learn, and sink into his Avill. 

His will is welcome, tho' it lay each earthly prospect 
low ; 

God is too wise to err, and will what's best for us be- 
stow. 



POEMS. 47 



The Psalmist made his boast in God, and we may do 

the same ; 
The word exhorts to cry aloud, and praise his holy 

name. 
Should those here hold their peace, whom God has 

his own Spirit o^iven, 
Where could he look for honor due, and whom make 

meet for Heaven ? 

R.egardless of the world's cold frown, we would march 

boldly on. 
Nor right nor left would turn, but go where our dear 

Saviour's gone. 
There's mansions there, and Jesus will prepare his 

saints a place, 
Where they will never cease to sing of his redeeming 

grace. 

Are we expecting to be there, and share each prof- 
fered bliss ? 

The Father's love is not in those who love a world 
like this. 

Then tarry not in all the plain ; seek high and holy 
ground, 

Lest in the balance when we're weighed, we should' 
be wanting found. 



"Brother, JLive!'' 

When dark misfortune's tide is up, 
Its sitrges running high, 

If we have lost our hold on God, 
Where then for refuge fly ? 



48 POEMS. 



Oppressed, desponding-, near despair, 
Health, strength and courage fled, 

These cheering Avords heed, "Brother, Im 
And raise your sinking head. 

Though anguish deep, and bitter grief 

Be felt and long be borne. 
Abide the test ; seek no relief 

That's not from Heaven alone. 

Deliverance must be found in God, 

A blessing to secure ; 
There is encouragement for those 

Who trials Avell endure. 

In tribulation's beaten path, 

The ancient prophets trod ; 
It is the only way that brings 

The wanderer home to God. 

Let patience have its perfect work, 

Be purified and tried ; 
Be ready when tlie King shall come, 

To e'er with him abide. 



The article which now you think 

So perfect and complete, | 

Would doubtless be, if half as long, ! 

For printing twice as meet. 

Once and again your thoughts condense, 

Then what ren.ains improve; 
For matter must be weighty now, | 

Tlie minds of men to move. 



POEMS. 49 



No preface does your piece demand, 

No introduction needs ; 
Select the wheat, but cast aside 

The straw, and chafF, and weeds. 

How many worse than wasted hours 
Are spent foul works to read, 

Fictions which poison heart and mind. 
And basest passions feed. 

Search for some richer gems than these, 

Ideas new and rare ; 
Soon M'ill you learn the good to save, 

The valueless to spare. 

With heart and mind thus disciplined, 

And quickened every sense. 
Let these three rules your pen control — 

Condense, condense, condense. 



■ — ^^^^^^^5^2^:7 

''The Bond of reace,'' 

When love unites the saints 
There'll be no sad complaints 

Against each other ; 
No bitter root will spring, 
A wrong report to bring 

Against a brother. 

Each will delight to see 
Sweet peace and harmony, 

And long for more ; 
God's love the heart will fill. 
And selfish motives kill, 

As ne'er before. 



50 POEMS. 



In union there'll be strength, 
Through all the breadth and length 

Of this grand host ; 
Armed for the battle-field, 
No point of truth they'll yield, | 

Firm at their post. ^ 



And when the battle's o'er. 
They're safe forevermore, 

With Christ their King ; 
Through him they gain their crown, 
And lay their weapons down. 

And victory sing. 



Christian Suhniission. 

The Lord is mine, his will my choice ; 
I'm his to suffer or rejoice, 

While here on earth I stay. 
I know in whom I have believed ; 
He has my sacrifice received. 

And will direct my way. 

Whate'er he calls me here to do. 

He'll give me grace and help me through 

He'll lead and guide me home. 
He's promised to be with me here, 
And said to me, " Be of good cheer. 

The world I've overcome." 

Let friends deride, let scoffers rage. 
Let hell against my soul engage ; 

No one of them I fear. 
My Lord has conquered all my foes. 
In vain they rage, or me oppose. 

While my Deliverer's near. 



' } 



POEMS. 51 



Myself, my all, to God I give, 
And to his glory would I live, 

From sin's dominion freed. 
I'll trnst him though he hides his face. 
Sufficient for me is his grace. 

In every time of need. 

He's coming, whom we have desired, 
In all his saints to be admired; 

Even so, Lord Jesus, come. 
Come, in thine own appointed way ; 
We'd wait in patience to that day, 

When thou shalt call us home. 



Who is Without Fault? 

Is there one here, who, e'er thus far, 
Has blameless been preserved ? 

Who never strayed, made one mistake, 
Or e'er from duty swerved '? 

There may have been no outward act 
To cause one pang of grief; 

But has there been no secret fault, 
No sin of unbelief? 

Then judge not harshly ; who can tell 
Thy brother's suffering now. 

That he has failed in any point. 
To pay the Lord his vow 1 

From secret faults, the Psalmist prayed, 
Dear Lord, oh ! cleanse thou me. 

And from presumptuous sins keep back, 
Preserve and make me free. 



52 



POEMS. 



Left to himself, how great his fall ! 

And he himself the guide. 
How humbled, mortlHed, subdued, 

His vanity and pride ! 

We are left to sin, to punish sin, 

No consolation here ; 
Eeflection only swells the tide 

Of anguish sad and drear. 

Our falls oft cause a bitter grief, 

That no redemption knows ; 
The deep, the painful, bleeding wound. 

Time here can never close. 

The die when cast, the ship when sunk. 

To light can never rise. 
Our good name lost — and all on board, 

Then goes in sad surprise. 

Oh ! what a vacancy then made. 

An empty, aching void ; 
Our peace of mind in silence crushed, 

And hope's bright boon destroyed. 

But there is pardon with our God, 

For crimes of deepest dye ; 
Be self and pride then humbled low, 

In dust and ashes lie. 

It should be there, and God Avill see 
Those whom he loves refined. 

He'll keep them in the crucible 
Till they his statutes mind. 

He'll watch the furnace and will see 

The gold sustains no loss. 
Oh ! be the faitliful process borne, 

And all consumed the dross. 



POEMS 



53 



God must in ns his ima2:e see, 
And we reflect the same. 

Oh ! may we honor and adore, 
And glorify his name. 



Overcome and Live* 



Confess your faults, and for each other pray ; 
The slanderous tongue, oh ! be it far away ; 
That tameless thing which sets the world on fire. 
And rouses all the angry passion's ire. 

Where this is god, our God can ne'er abide, 
Nor where there's lightness, selfishness, or pride ; 
His dwelling's with the meek and low of heart. 
And for himself he'll set all these apart. 

Who would not thus be honored of the Lord, 
And have from him a large and rich reward ? 
Who would not be with saints and angels blest, 
And have in Heaven at last eternal rest ? 

Live for it, then ; all God's commandments keep. 
Although the way be through afflictions deep. 
Cast all your care on Him who cares for you, 
And he will lead and guide you safely through. 

And when you reach fair Canaan's blissful shore, 
When sin and suffering are forever o'er, 
You'll find the city glorious to behold, 
Christ is its light, its streets all paved with gold. 

You'll by the King of kings be welcomed there. 
Where tuned to praise is every sigh and prayer. 
No blight to mar, no tear to dim the sight ; 
And to the tree of life you'll.have a right. 



54 POEMS, 



You'll meet dear loved ones long since fallen asleep, 
All deathless raised from their lone caverns deep ; 
Together there you'll sing, We're saved by grace, 
And brought by Jesus to this glorious place. 

No farewell parting, no sad Avord adieu, 
Your home forever in the earth made new. 
Oh ! bliss which mortal tongue can ne'er express. 
To be with Jesus, robed in righteousness. 

Glory and honor will to Him be given. 
Who's purchased for us peace and rest in Heaven, 
Who bore our sins, and by whose stripes Ave're healed. 
And to eternal life and glory sealed. 

With glory, hallelujah, Heaven will ring, 
In honor to the Lord our sovereign King. 
Each will his note the highest strive to raise, 
To give to Jesus, honor, glory, praise. 



The Last Message of Mercy. 

Angel of mercy art thou here 

And hovering o'er us now ? 
Oh ! may we all before our God, 

In adoration bow. 

To heed the message, or reject. 

The Avorld will soon decide. 
While some in love receive the truth, 

More will its claims deride ; 

Why Avill they slight the offered boon ? 

Though we their lot deplore, 
They place themselves beyond the reach 

Of mercy's lingering store. 



POEMS. 55 



Too late ! their dreadful doom now sealed, 

Too late ! will be their cry ; 
We might have lived, but now, alas ! 

The second death must die. 

The Spirit and the bride say come, 

Let naught obstruct the way ; 
But hasten God's commands to keep. 

And all his will obey. 

Oh ! be entreated while there's hope, 

To heed the message given ; 
That with the ransomed you may find 

A place of rest in Heaven. 



We Love, 

We love ; for Jesus loves, 

We love his image here. 
We love to meet, we love to pray, 

And hold each other dear. 

We know it's of the Lord, 

Or we could not unite 
With those ne'er seen before 

In bonds of sweet delight. 

By this shall all men know, 

One family we are. 
Oh ! could they know our joys. 

And with us in them share ! 

There's hope, we know there's hope. 

That mercy lingers yet, 
Or we should cease to feel. 

Their miseries forget. 



56 POEMS. 



We'll feel as Jesus feels ; 

We'll love and pity too ; 
We'll weep, we'll pray, we'll plead. 

And tell them it's for you. 

This love we'll not give o'er 
Though we endure their hate. 

'Twill urge, Oh ! come to Christ 
Ere it shall be too late. 



'Twill bring us at their feet 
In attitude of prayer, 

'Twill cry, Lord, forgive, 
And these yet longer spare. 

He says, I hear your prayer, 
I'll save if they will come, 

Oh ! then to God return, 
And have in Heaven a home. 



Have Mercy on Your selves. 

Have mercy. Lord, we often pray. 
And lead us in the narroAV way. 
While we ourselves refuse to go 
Where God can lead or mercy show. 

Have mercy on yourselves . Beware 
Lest you are caught in Satan's snare. 
Or wandering for on worldly ground, 
Are in its deadening spirit drowned. 

Have mercy on yourselves. Take heed, 
That no perverted taste you feed ; 
That neither word nor^act degrade 
The vows and promises you've made. 



POEMS. 57 



True, in ourselves we helpless are 

To help ourselves. Lord help, 's our prayer, 

Poor, wretched, miserable and blind, 

In thee all needed help we find. 

Be this our motto, then : We'll try 
To help ourselves ; while God is ni<^h ; 
And he in every trying hour 
Will aid us with his soverign power. 



The Advent, 

» 

Those who've heai'd the proclamation 

Of a coming Savioiir near, 
Will behold him in great splendor. 

When in clouds he shall appear. 

He will come ; this generation 

Will not pass till all is o'er. 
Signs foretell he's now approaching, 

And is even at the door. 

Oh ! what scenes will burst upon us, 

When the heavens and earth shall shake, 

When the trump of God is soiinding. 
And the dead in Christ awake ! 

Saints now living, made immortal, 

With the risen from the dead, 
All arrayed in robes of honor, 

With their Saviour at their head. 

Freed from sin and every sorrow, 

Ever to be with their Lord, 
And for all they've suffered for him, 

Meet a rich and sure reward. 



58 POEMS. 



But where will the thoughtless sinner 

Find a secret place to hide, 
From the wrath of him who loved us, 

And for us was crucified 1 

Rocks and mountains cannot hide them, 
Caves and dens are sought in vain ; 

Unlaraented and unburied, 

Will be found the wicked slain. 

If there's yet one ray of mercy. 
Lingering for transgressors here, 

Let them haste to gain the treasure, 
Bought and paid for us so dear. 



The Coming Day, 

The great day is near, when probation no more, 
For the careless backslider will longer remain; 

And the sinner Avill find when all mercy is o'er, 
What a treasure he's lost which he might have at- 
tain'd. 

The saints will come forth in immortal aiTay, 

Their triumph o'er death and the grave be com- 
plete, 

The living be changed, and together ascend, 
Their glorious Kedeemer in Heaven to meet. 

With him forever, 'tis said they will be, 

And the song of their victory never shall end. 

Forever with Christ in his glorious home, — 
Oh, who can such glory and bliss comprehend ? 



POEMS. 



59 



And are we prepared for this glorious place ? 

Are we able to stand when the Lord shall appear? 
Our victory o'er self must be full and entire, 

Or still for ourselves may we tremble and fear. 

God loves to redeem and to save us from sin ; 

Let us haste to pursue the true path of reform ; 
And the strength of Omnipotence then will be ours ; 

We shall conquer the foe, we shall weather the 
storm. 



Domestic Afflictions, 

From the story " A Skeleton in every house." 

Domestic afflictions ! Oh ! how they divide ; 
How sad when we can't in each other confide, 
This anguish, though deep, must in silence be borne, 
Abroad, home afflictions should not be made known. 



Beware when 'tis said. Oh ! how happy you are, 
Not even to hint there's a skeleton there, 
The sight of which fills with deep anguish the heart. 
Oh ! 'tis nought to see loved ones and kindred depart. 

When the grave has enclosed them, the grief wears 

away ; 
But oh ! living griefs on the stoutest hearts prey ; 
Though you smile and seem joyful, 'tis but to conceal 
The depth of the misery you inwardly feel. 

How oft, where true peace undisturbed is enjoyed, 

By a member additional, all is destroyed ; 

No congenial spirit, domestic joys o'er, 

And home, O sweet home, there is realized no more. 



60 POEMS 



When oblig-ed to have inmates aside from our own, 
How oft seeds of discord and anguish are sown ; 
The world thus is filled with confusion and strife, 
Embittering the peace and the quiet of life. 

Well, be this our portion ; be broken each tie ; 
On the arm of the Lord we alone must rely. 
With a meek, quiet spirit, resigning our all, 
Content in our Father's allotments to fall. 



The Christian's Desire, 

I long, God ! to call thee mine. 
And know that I am truly thine ; 
That all I think, or say, or do, 
May meet thine approbation, too. 

In all, thy glor}^ I would seek, 
And but for thee. Lord, would not speak 
I'd raise my voice in grateful lays. 
Nor would I move but to thy praise. 

I'd part with joys of earthly mould, 
And pass through trials yet untold, 
Could I but know my Lord was there, 
And did each bitter cup prepare. 

I'd love to drink it. and rejoice 
To have thy will, dear Lord, my choice. 
If I might choose, I'd leave to thee 
The whole control of mine and me. 

God will protect and save his own, 
Though in the fiery furnace thrown ; 
But did we know our case Avas sui-e, 
'T might not efl^cct sin's needed cure. 



POEMS. 



61 



To break our hold of every tie, 
That we to sin and self may die, 
God seems to quite forsake us here, 
Nor leave one ray of light to cheer. 

Though painful now, " the darkest day, 
To-morrow, will liave passed away," 
Deliverance will be found ere long. 
And then will come the conquerer's song 

If I am favored here to share 
An answer to my Saviour's prayer. 
We shall be one, his voice I'll hear. 
When in the clouds he shall appear. 

Oh ! glorious day to those who're found 
In Him when the last trump shall sound: 
Their sorrows and their sufferings o'er. 
And prayer to praise turned evermore. 



The Warfare, 

Temptations are presented, and we yield e'er we're 

aware. 
And again become entangled in the tempter's subtle 

snare ; 
Our warring passions raging, with the sound of battle 

din, 
Though outward foes in arms array, this warfare is 

within. 



There's hatred, pride and unbelief, and many evils 

there. 
And our besetting sins oft battle faith and humble 

prayer ; 



62 POEMS. 



Thus wasted are our energies, our strength and nob- 
ler powers, 

And we ourselves deprive of joys, which otherwise 
were ours. 

Poor, wretched, miserable and blind, how vain our 

boastings all ; 
Our misspent moments, worse than lost, we never 

can recall. 
The good we might have done, had we obeyed each 

precept given, 
Will be a blank, and less will be our crowns of joy in 

Heaven. 

Why wound our souls 1 Why take the gall pererted 

tastes to please, 
When nought but Jesus' dying blood, God's anger 

can appease ? 
Like Peter we deny our Lord, and spurn his tender 

care ; 
Such base ingratitude as this, who but a God could 

bear? 

Most deeply must we feel and weep, ere Christ will 

on us look, 
And bless us with the assurance, that our names are 

in life's book ; 
He knows our frailties and is touched with penitential 

tears ; 
'Tis just like Jesus to forgive, and banish all our 

fears. 

Such depths of love, such pity, too, should make us 

prostrate fall 
Before our Kiuir whom we should crown forever 

"Lord of all;" 



POEMS . 



63 



And when we're freely justified, continued help we 

crave, 
Our strength is weakness, and ourselves from sin we 

cannot save. 

Thy mission here was, Lord, to save thy people from 
their sins, 

And""here if e'er we overcome, is where our hope be- 
gins, 

Through Christ alone the victory's gained, and noth- 
ing can Ave merit ; 

If we are overcomers, we in him all things inherit. 

Not unto us, but Lord to thee, the glory shall be 

given; 
It is the noblest song on earth, 'twill noblest- be in 

Heaven ; 
No warring passions to unstring the holy, heavenly 

lyre. 
At the loss of all things here, would I be one in that 

blest choir. 

■ ^^^5=3^ 

Always Mejoicing, 

If our heart do not condemn us, we have confidence 

in God, 
We can bear the Avorld's reproaches, we can bear 

affliction's rod ; 
If we suffer with the Saviour, we shall also with him 

reign, 
Here we cast our burden on him, with the promise, 

he'll sustain. 

What though false reports are started, and believed 
by those we love ? 



64 POEMS. 



We can love though they turn from us ; we can plead 
for them above ; 

Lord, impart the Holy Spirit; for the want of this 
they erred ; 

Had they Avaited for thy teachings, they the Shep- 
herd's voice had heard ; 

Would have known thy stately stoppings, Avhen thy 

gjory was displayed ; 
Would have felt the holy influence, and thine urgent 

call obeyed. 
Oh ! withhold no blessing from them, for the wrong 

dealt out to me, 
But for Jesus' sake have mercy ; mercy. Lord, is all 

our plea. 



I Jesus has pronounced a blessing on those folsely here 

j accused, 

j Who for his sake are derided, persecuted and abused ; 

j He has said, Rejoice, in that day ye may be cxceed- 

! ing glad, 

j Greater still our joy in Heaven, when in robes of 

I glory clad. 

j He will hide in his pavilion ; there we're safe from 
j every foe, 

I Under the Almighty's shadow we can through dis- 
asters go ; 
Well can we bear wrongs and censure, while God 

knows our innocence. 
While he justifies us freely; is our shield and our 
defense. 

Glory to the Lord, my Saviour ! glory to his holy 

name ! 
Oh! for his sake I can suff.-r, bear reproach and grief 

and shame ! 



POEMS, 65 



Who, with such a friend as Jesus, can be troubled or 

dismayed ? 
Who while on the waters walking, said, 'Tis I, be 

not afraid. 

He can still the raging tempest; him the winds and 
waves obey ; 

While we sail these seas of trouble, he will smooth 
and calm the way. 

Soon the ship will be in harbor, storms and tem- 
pests all be o'er ; 

Oh ! how blest the glorious landing, tossed with sins 
and griefs no more ! 



The Work of Meform. 

The dearest joys of earth can ne'er 

One solid pleasure give ; 
We're only blest when we can know 

That 'tis for God we live. 

We love by nature what he hates ; | 

We shun ourselves to see ; ] 

We love our appetites and pride, I 

Ease and carnalitv. I 



The strife must come, and self must die, 

Our idols all Ix; slain ; 
How sad should they o'er us at last 

Their cruel victory gain ! 

Too soon we cannot overcome 

Our every sin and wrong. 
Through Jesus let us conquei' self, 

And join the blood- washed throng. 



6Q POEMS 



Our wings of strength and zeal we plume, 

And rouse the dormant will, 
To yield our hearts to Nature's laws, 

And all their claims fulfill. 

This move in heavenly wisdom made. 

To tit for trouble's hour, 
Has blessings for the willing heart. 

Of health and strength and power. 



That all around may see the light. 
Let's raise our banner high, 

And be epistles known and read 
By all who may come nigh. 

The platform for us now is laid ; 

Reform is on the sign ; 
We'll rally round, resolving each, 

It's blessings shall be mine. 



Live for God, 

The offering has been made, 

The ransom has been paid ; 
On one full strong to save 

Has help for us been laid. 
Behold, O God, our shield, 

On thine Anointed look. 
And blot, for his dear sake, ' 

Our sins from out thy book. 

Sins now of deepest dye. 
Can all be washed away ; 

God just, and justify 
Those who his laws obey. 

"Glor}^ to God on high ; 



POEMS. 67 1 


Good will to men on earth : " — 


Such was the rapturous C17, 


That told a Saviour's birth. 


The Saviour's life and death, 


" Has ruined Satan's throne ; " 


His mifrhty arm, alone. 


Can crush his empire down. 


Though god now of this world, 


His triumph soon is o'er. 


We hail the dawning day 


When he shall reign no more. 


Salvation's wondrous plan, \ 


Has made all Heaven rejoice; 


'Tis wisdom now in man 


To make this boon his choice. 


By this can he o'ercome, t 


And when each sin's forgiven, 


Be f(mnd at last an heir f 


Of glory and of Heaven. f 


Ere long at home in Heaven, j: 


His place of final rest — ji 


' There's no oppressor there ; { 


And none will be oppressed. |j 


All harmony and love, 1; 


All joy and glory there — '' 


Say, would you not in these li 


Eternal blessings share ? j: 


Live then for joys like these; [ 


Hear Jesus' voice to-day, 1^ 


Who comes to me, I will j^ 


In no wise cast away. t 


Just as you are, then, come; J: 


Secure his pardoning love, 1 


And have, at last, the bliss, ' 


And joy of Heaven above. i 

i 



68 POEMS. 



My Sheep Heat' My Voice. 

The voice of a stranger my sheep will not hear ; 
I know them, they follow, my words reach their ear. 
I'll lead them, direct them, they never need stray, 
I myself am the life, and the truth, and the way. 

Yea, Lord, this we know ; but we lose sight of thee ; 
Unguarded we're snared ere our danger Ave see ; 
So hidden the net, 'tis in thy light alone 
That a spirit that's not of thee clearly is known. 

Lord search us out ; our impurities heal ; 

Thou, tempted, though sinless, knowest all that Ave 

feel ; 
A Avay of escape for the humble thou 'It find. 
And help them the pure testimony to bind. 

HoAv SAveet and consoling the true Shepherd's voice ! 
His loA'e I'll acknoAvledge and in him rejoice ; 
O Lord I believe, help my unbelief noAV, 
To trust all to thee and perform every voav. 

My strength is but Aveakness; be thou, Lord, my 

strength ; 
Thy love may I knoAv in its hitrht, depth and length ; 
Reflecting thine image, thy Avill being mine, 
My darkness enlightened, the true light must shine. 

We then can do all things through Jesus our Lord, 
With the SAVOrd of the Spirit, his oaa'u Avritten Avord ; 
The foes that lurk inward being all put to flight, 
God truly goes Avith us our battles to tight. 

Each keeping the ranks, all united in one. 
Saying, Lord, as thou hast commanded, we've done ; 
No Avcapon Avill prosper formed here to divide, 
And victory will turn upon Israel's side. 



POEMS. 



Where Is Thy God? 

"My tears have been my meat day and night, while they 
continually say unto me, Where is "thy God?" Ps. 42 : 3. 

Throixgh day and nipht my tears have been my meat, 
Ano-uish and orief there find a blest retreat; 
The spirit crashed, the heart with anguish riven, 
Almost forj^ets there will be rest in Heaven. 

Dear loved one sleeping —sympathy, oh, where ? 
Is there no one who will our sorrows share 1 
The flowing streamlet, and the murmuring rill, 
In ocean find a kindred spirit still. 

Do tears oft say. Oh ! where is now thy God ? 
Submit to this and every chastening rod. 
I'd calmly yield to every needed ill. 
And learn to bear God's visitation still. 

Not unaccustomed to the galling yoke, 
Though oft uncalled for, I would bear each stroke ; 
Though wet with tears my pillow oft may be, 
Still to the Lord for succor will I flee. 



Th^fj tvho Love the Laiv. 

Great peace have they that love thy law. 

Them nothing- will oflend ; 
They'll bear neglect, reproach and scorn, 

Though without cause contemned. 

Their innocence will bear them up, 
Though falsely they're accused ; 

Their liearts will melt with love for those 
By whom thev are abused. 



POEMS 



The court of Heaven their cause will plead, 

The innocent will clear ; 
Though men naay load their names with gnilt. 

While they continue here. 

A consciotisness of rioht within. 

Great peace and joy afford ; 
How free, how happy, oh ! how blest, 

Comraunino; vdth the Lord. 



He says revile not, when reviled. 
Thy wrongs I will repay ; 

Be ever}^ burden cast on rae, 
I'll be thy strength and stay. 



God, fJie Cotnf Offer of Those lllio Are 
Cast Down, 

In view of dear and loved ones gone. 
We oft feel desolate and lone. 
We seek mau's sympathy in vain ; 
A passing look we hardly gain. 

But few can feel another's woe ; 
And fewer still will with us <:o 
To share the depth of heart-feU grief; 
And sacritice to give relief. 

To Ijear affliction's chastening njJ, 
Our confidence must bo in God. 
With this ahove the cloud w(! soar. 
And soon we'll shout our sufferhig o'er. 

Disease and dark misfortune's frown. 
Then will not sink our sju'nts d()\>ni. 
We'll shout, O death where is thy sting? 
O grave thou canst no victory bring ! 



POEMS . 



71 



By Jesus, our Deliverer, freed, 

No light of sun or moon we need. 

His glory is the city's light. 

And with him there we've all a right. 

Each bitter pang which here we bear, 
Will be a gem of glory there. 
Th' eternal weight of glory, wrought 
By suftcring is not dearly bought. 

Be cold indifference, grief or pain 
Mine to endure —the loss is gain. 
Through sorrow's depths I here would wade 
To be through sufferings perfect made. 



Worldly Sorrow. 

Worldly sorrow worketh death ; 

Sink not beneath its power ; 
'Twill darken much that else were bright, 

In mercy's lingering hour. 

Forgotten be the trials past, 

The present meekly borne ; 
Our burdens cast upon the Lord, 

Who comforts those that mourn. 

With heavenly wisdom we shall know 
What God would have us do ; 

While moving in his order on, 
Our hope and strength renew. 

Revived and strengthened we're prepared 

To spread the truth abroad, 
Beseeching men in Jesus' stead, 

Be reconciled to God. 



79 



POEMS. 



Then jewels will be gathered in, 
Tlie church built up ao^ain, 

And all prepared to meet tlie Lord, 
Who's coming soon to rei^n. 

The Hace and Warfare, 

Are we loitering on the way 
To the realms of endless day ? 
Sleep Ave on while danger's near? 
Have we nought to dread or fear ? 

Let Bs heed the call, Awake! 
Our eternal all's at stake ; 
One false step our fate may seal. 
Ruin, soon our sonls may feel. 

Foes our evers' more to spy, 
All around in ambush lie ; 
Watching, they Asill take the place 
Left unfortiried by grace. 

Oh ! what havoc then is made, 
StractuiTS fair in ruin laid ; 
Messengei's driven from the field, 
Those who should be valiant, yield. 

Some who started to go throngb 
Now a wicked course jjursuo ; 
What account must soon he uiven ! 
Why thus sink in sight of Heaven ? 

Flee, oh ! flee the tetnpter's snare ! 
There is ])ower with God in prayer ; 
He is ready to fl)rgi\e. 
Saying, Look to nie and live. 



POEMS. 73 



The Darkness of Despair, 

The heart knows its bitterness, thoufrht 't may be said, 
Yon are happy and blest all the while ; 

The depth of your misery, your burden of sin 
May in anguish be hid 'neath a smile. 

Thy waves and thy billoAvs are over me gone. 

With the Psalmist, I mournfully say, 
And ask, Why cast down ? Why disquieted, op- 
prest ? 

'Tis why I've no heart now to pray? 

Has the Spirit been grieved ? Has it taken its flight ? 

To this desolate self am I left 1 
And merited sure, naught else is deserved. 

But to be thvis of comfort bereft. 

I groan, being burdened, and cannot look up, 

By reason of sin's dread array, 
O keep back from sins, and from secret faults cleanse, 

Or despairing, I sink in dismay. 

Sin hardens, and blinds, and shuts up in despair ; 

The way of transgressors is hard. 
Its end is destruction, its wages ai-e death. 

Thus forever from Heaven debarred. 

This anguish of spirit, this sad state of the soul, 
I must bear though I may not submit. 

God is just though I perish, his throne remains pure. 
However many he may not acquit. 

Oh ! for one gleam of hope, thus to break the dread 
spell, 

By' which I in misery seem bound ; 
Naught of earth, but the power of Heaven must heal 

Sin's painful, sin's deep, bleeding wound. 



POEMS. 



Should I ever again meet the smiles of my God, 

Should I ever his praise again sing, 
In rapturous song I would swell the grand theme, 

And my tribute of thanksgiving bring. 

Oh ! here is the mystery, — give glory to God ; 

The blessing is coming e'en now. 
I'll sing hallelujah, I'll praise and adore, 

And low in humility bow. 

With the Psalmist, I cry. Come praise ye the Lord, 

Praise and glory to God now belong ; 
My heart with my hands, lift to God in the Heavens, 

Giving praise with the angelic throng. 

This praise ne'er will end ; the redeemed will unite. 

And with angels, God's glory repeat. 
To the pure tree of life all vriW there have a right. 

And the fruit of the vineyard will eat. 

How blest to know Jesus our Lord w^ill be there, 

The glory and light of the place. 
And tbe song which forever will rise on its air. 

Will be sune: to his sovereign grace. 



The Latter Bain. 

We may look for a Pentecost season to dawn 

When the saints through the purifying process have 

gone ; 
When Jesus' loved image in them Ave can trace, 
Reflecting the glory of full sovereign grace. 

Who then will not wish when this glory they see 
To join in the song, Hallelujah, we're free ! 
Yea, free in the Lord, Avhile our voices we raise 
In victory's songs and hosannas of praise. 



POEMS. 7r5 



The true melting Spirit is felt from the Lord, 
And light and instruction shine out from his word. 
God's power is made known and his glory dis- 
played. 
While scoffers will feel that they need HeaA'cn's aid. 

Who here long can stand with his sins unconfessed ? 
May all be searched out, and God's people be 

blessed. 
Confess ye \our faults, and thus honor your King, 
And into his store-house your offerings bring. 

'Tis a cross-bearing way by which Heaven is ob- 
tained ; 

In humility's vale is the victory gained. 

True love there prevails ; and onr sins are forgiven, 

While union and strength mark the pilgrims for 
Heaven. 



The Hour of Judgment. 

The time has come, that all-important day. 
When sins must be confessed and washed away ! 
When hearts must feel, and conscience' voice be heard 
In swift obedience to God's holy word. 

"Be zealous and repent," is God's command. 
We must in humble ranks united stand. 
With us, 'tis said, the judgment first begins ; 
And we must soon be cleansed ft-om all our sins. 

We must let Jesus in. Our mighty foe 

Is ready to effect our overthrow. 

With Christ we're safe ; in conflict he'll unite. 

Help on to victory, and maintain the right. 



POEMS. 



The eye-salve, well applied, sheds light around, 
And all our secret faults and sins are found, 
To be confessed, while Jesus intercedes. 
And while for us his precious blood he pleads. 

Though scarlet be our sins — of crimson dye — 
If penitent, he'll not our suit deny. 
He waits for full confession, which, when made, 
Whate'er our sin and guilt, he'll not upbraid. 

He's ready to acquit and set us free, 
And will proclaim our perfect liberty. 
He'll seal us his, and make us here his care ; 
He'll fit us for his throne, and take us there. 

He's cutting short his work in riirhteouness, 
And coming soon his waiting saints to bless. 
When once he's left the mediatorial place, 
No ray of mercy lights our ruined race. 

'Twill then be known, the offers we've refused, 
The blood-bought privileges that we've abused — 
How must it sharpen every pang of guilt 
To think, for us the Saviour's blood was spilt; 

To know we might have had our sins forgiven, 
And lived forever with the loved in Heaven. 
In view of anguish deep we then must feel. 
No wounds of sin may we here slightly heal. 

Broad as th' offense, confession I will make, 
And all my dear, loved idol sins forsake. 
Yes, glory be to God ! the victory's gained, 
And self-denial shall be hence maintained. 

'Twill take our all to buy the pure tried gold ; 
And naught of earth can we in heart withhold. 
A cheaper way I would not, could I, go ; 
A dearer way no one can ever show. 



POEMS. 



I love the blessed Avay ; it buoys me up ; 
My Saviovir's here, and with him I may sup. 
I'll be content with nothing short of this ; 
And this alone makes Heaven perpetual bliss. 

Then let us make our hope and calling sure ; 
And all our trials patiently endure. 
They'll soon be o'er; our lives we'll not hold dear. 
And soon in glory with our Lord appear. 



The Memtiant Church. 

There is a people coming up, with gifts, and power 
divine, 

Whose holy influence will be felt, whose holy light 
will shine ; 

It will be known who do in truth, the solemn message 
heed, 

Such will be zealous and repent, becoming saints in- 
deed. 

Their love and union Avill increase, their interests will 

be one; 
They'll know that they are heirs of God, and joint 

heirs with his Son ; 
They'll love God for his own dear sake, not that He's 

them forgiven ; 
And truly "sift will be their hell, and holiness their 

Heaven." 

Their company will be the saints, and each will be so 
dear, 

They'll love to make a sacrifice to benefit them here. 

They'll love for their Redeemer's sake ; as answers 
face to face. 

So will their hearts while they in each, his lovely im- 
age trace. 



78 POEMS. 



This dread, dull sameness will not long among the 

saints bear sway, 
The glory in their midst will soon purge all the chaff 

away ; 
Thus separated from the vile, the strong be stronger 

still ; 
The great refreshing time is near, and all may come 

who will. 

But, oh ! some will not be refined, nor give their idols 

up; 
Such never will let Jesus in, nor with him ever sup. 
They yet may linger round the shore, and think to 

get on board. 
But they must come to Heaven's terms; the stajidard 

can't be lowered. 

Thrice happy they who're in the ship, though tossed 
with angry waves ! 

"Our Father's at the helm," and all who trust in him 
he saves ; 

Those who in heart give up their all, lie passive in 
his hand, 

He'll bring with safety into port, to their own prom- 
ised land. 



False Fame atid True, 

While men, our faults perceiving not, Avould move 

our fame to raise. 
How oft our natures weakly yield to flattery and 

praise, 
Oh ! what in us should e'er excite our vanity and 

pride ! 
Or cause us not in lowliness, vain thoughts of self to 

hide? 



POEMS. 



79 



Let deeds of charity and love in all our life abound ; 

Philanthrophy fails not to go, where'er a sufferer's 
found, 

To seek the poor, degraded, low, the wicked and de- 
based. 

Though his own name by slander's tongue, be CA^er 
thus defaced. 

These are the jewels he would gain, this course would 

fain pursue ; 
That he is not like them, he asks, to whom is glory 

due? 
Who made us thus to differ here ? who gives the 

strength and power 
To hold the victory over self, in dark temptation's 

hour? 

Let him who thinks he stands take heed ; this is the 
word to all ; 

The strongest may be overcome, and through tempta- 
tion fall. 

Do we in higher circles move ? are higher placed by 
birth ? 

No such distinction will be known, when moldering 
in the earth. 

But deeds of kind benevolence will live when we are 

dead ; 
The poor will think how they were clothed, and shared 

our daily bread ; 
The once abandoned who've reformed beneath our 

fostering care, 
Will bless the day they ever lived our sympathies to 

share. 

Such the remembrance I would have, alive or in my 

grave, 
To have been the humble instrument some sinking 

soul to save. 



80 POEMS. 



For this I turn from pleasure's scenes, to weep with 1 

those that weep ; I 

To strive their sufterings to assuage, their confidence j 
to keep. 

Though on them glows the copper tint, though Afri- 
can their race. 

What matters these distinctions of their nation, lot, 
or place ? 

For oh ! the highest joy of earth is comfort to im- 
part 

To those who lie 'neath fortune's frowns, with sad 
and suffering heart. 

Though hidden from the public view, unseen your 

acts of love. 
If heart and hand be clean and pure, their record 

lives above. 
Let me thus seek my neighbor's good, thus helpless 

sufferers raise; 
Be this the glory of my fame ; be deeds of love my 

praise. 



Betiirn unto the Lord, 

Have you again become 

To appetite a slave ? 
You've boasted victory here. 

Why sink beneath the wave ? 

You say, I have no hope. 
No strength within me lies, 

And sinking still, I fear 
I ne'er again shall rise. 



POEMS . 81 



My efforts all have failed, 
To keep the victory gained. 

Where look for refuge now ? 
Or hope to be sustained ? 

A helpless sufferer, true, 
On confines of despair. 

While knowing there's no hope, 
If you continue there. 

Debased and losing still 
Life's elevating powers, 

A worse than blank you feel 
In this grand world of ours. 

A world God loved so well, 

He sent his only Son, 
That we through him might find 

On earth a Heaven begun. 

A world to which he sends 
Rich blessings from above, 

And daily here renews 
His covenant of love. 

Be moved, despairing one : 
Be helped again to live ; 

God pities, and will yet 
A greater victory give. 

He's waiting your return, 
With pardon in his hand ; 

In his strength you can rise, 
And in him we can stand. 

Yes ; stand amidst the scenes 
Of peril, war and strife, 

While Jesus is our guide 
To everla^iting life. 



82 POEMS. 



Come while he waits to save. 
Your case will hopeless be 

Except you come where God 
In Christ can make you free. 

Come and he'll save you here 
From sin's destructive power^ 

And be your all, when comes 
The o-reat decisive hour. 



Hafelij in the Lord. 

There's safety only in the Lord, whate'er onr sta- 
tion be ; 

We may be rich, we may be poor, may be on land or 
sea. 

Life's changing fortune will be ours where'er our lot 
is cast ; 

Unchanged in mind be ours to meet each change 
while it shall last. 

Dear friends are with us here to day with prospects 

foir to live ; 
To-morrow to the dust, in tears, their dear remains 

we give. 
Now pain and suffering is our ]ot; now dawns a 

brighter day ; 
But soon a cloud o'ercasts the sky and shuts the 

light away. 

An under current often works to sweep away our 

peace, 
Our reputation is at stake, our trials fast increase. 



POEMS. 83 



Dear reputation, dearest far, of all we've called our 

own, 
Must be defaced ; then be it so ; to God all things are 

known, 

Be every circumstance combined, the elements to 

raise ; 
By these be every trace removed of all our evil ways. 
When Jesus speaks it will be calm, the storm and 

wind subside ; 
Oh! may it last till all is gone of selfishness and 

pride. 

All else but this we could endure; this then is what 

we need ; 
Our very idol must be slain, and we from self be 

freed. 
Then are we fit for Heaven's use, to help build up 

God's cause. 
To boldly speak in his defense, and vindicate his 

laws. 

Oh! be it ours to live for God, his glory all our aim ; 
He'll work in power when we come to him in Jesus' 

name. 
All that is wrong will he remove, and bring the 

truth to light ; 
Oh ! we can trust our all with him ; his ways are 

just and right. 

We'll go then where he leads the way, whatever 

man may say. 
The greatest saint is nought except the Lord direct 

his way. 
Angels can't help but through their Lord ; to his 

arm all is due ; 
We'll follow him, for surely he will lead us safely 

throush. 



84 POEMS. 



The Health Institute. 

God knows our needs, he overrules, and calls this 

work his own ; 
We're agents to perform his will, as he shall make it 

known. 
Thus has an Institute been built; in this his hand we 

see; 
Where health reform is lived and taught, in strictest 

harmony. 

We look, admire, in joy exclaim, Come see what God 

hath wrought ! 
Here invalids are raised to health, and truth and duty 

taught. 
Perverted tastes are overcome ; the way to live we 

leaiTi ; 
And all who will its rules obey, a rich experience 

earn. 

The light and truth are cairied forth by those who 
leave the place, 

Showing what ground may yet be gained by our de- 
generate race. 

How blest ! for those who overcome their every sin 
and wrong. 

Can love the right, and walk in ways that life and 
health prolong. 

None can appreciate its worth, but those who test its 
powers ; 

This grand reform ! how great and good ! Its bless- 
ings shall be ours. 

Pure nature's fruits no art require to gratify the taste, 

And those who stop at her demands, nor time nor 
substance waste. 



POEMS. 85 



Who will escape the many ills increasing on the land ? 

The cleansed and puritied alone, diseases can with- 
stand. 

Haste, then, the cleansing process here, God's pre- 
cepts all obey, 

And be prepared to stand when comes the great and 
dreadful day. 



Divine Love, 

Though knowledge here is power, yet 'tis love sub- 
dues the heart, 

Subjects the will to Heaven, and will endless life im- 
part. 

Ic conquers every passion ; and the soul that feels its 
power 

Moves in a world of freedom, within its own loved 
bower. 

'Tis shielded, safely shielded ; the interior nought can 
reach ; 

No outward condemnation can this inward love im- 
peach. 

No weapon formed can prosper; and it fears no out- 
ward foe : 

While all within is conquered, 'lis a Heaven begun 
below. 

The world's applause, its censure too, are both alike 
received ; 

If undeserved, 'tis heeded not, though all may be be- 
lieved. 

It knows no good but that in God, it bears life's every 
ill, 

And moves undauntedly along, in Heaven's own 
blessed will. 



86 POEMS. 



Though outwardly you see conveyed " a libel in a 
frown." 

You'll stand unmoved, though they may " wink your 
reputation down ; " 

Your deeds of charity assailed, your motives ques- 
tioned too — 

Reviled, you'll not revile again, nor fear what man 
can do. 

Oh ! for the gold tried in the fire — our eyes anointed 

here — 
White raiment that we may be clothed, and not in 

shame appear. 
We then should move in harmony ; our God would 

own and bless ; 
We then should see his works abound in love and 

righteousness. 

The day is near, it hasteth on, when saints will all 

unite ; 
When every sin will be confessed, and every wrong 

made right ; 
When we shall see as we are seen, and know as we 

are known, 
And sit with Jesus, as he sits upon his Father's throne. 

Oh! glory, hallelujah to our high, exalted King; 
We'll praise him here, we'll praise him there, and 

make Heaven's arches ring. 
Who then can sacrifice too much, too much for him 

endure ? 
So may we purify ourselves, as Christ our Lord is 

pure. 



POEMS. 87 



Appeal to the Sinner. 

Though earth delights and charms us here, its treas- 
ures are but naught; 

In wisdom's light 'tis clearly seen how dear its love 
is bought. 

The price though now not realized, must soon be 
strictly paid. 

For this the soul must perish soon, in hopeless ruin 
laid. 

The second death must be endured in anguish and 

despair ; 
While you will see the righteous saved, no friend can 

reach you there. 
Oh ! loss beyond all losses ! Then what profit here to 

gain 
This fleeting world, and call at last for endless life, 



The blood of Jesus set at naught — rejected every 
call — 

The Spirit will be forced to yield, and let God's ven- 
geance fall. 

The wrath of God e'en now impends ; and soon 
you'll feel its weight. 

Oh ! fl je for refuge while there's hope ; full soon 'twill 
be too late. 

A moment more the Saviour waits ; for you his blood 
he pleads, 

My blood ! my Father, oh, my blood ! forgive the sin- 
ner's deeds ! 

But if you still refuse to bow, and be by him forgiven. 

You must bo banished from the Lord, and find no 
place in Heaven. 



POEM 



To free from sin and second death, the Saviour's 

blood has cost — 
What weeping and what wailing when you see what 

you haAe lost. 
God's justice will be manifest in your destruction 

sure ; 
And hopeless agony will be your portion to endure. 

Once more in prayer I prostrate fall, once more I'll 

plead your case ; 
Have mex'cy, Lord, and here bestow unmerited free 

grace. 
He's knocking now ! he's wet with dew ! Oh ! let the 

Saviour in ; 
He'll sup with you, and you with him ; he'll cleanse 

you from all sin. 

He'll shelter from the coming storai ; no plague 
shall e'er come niirh ; 
lide from ( 
never die. 

Life's water pui*e is here : come, drink ! 'tis freely 
oifered still ; 

The Spirit and the Bride say, Come ! Come, who- 
soever will. 

The Love of Mcinjf is Waxed Cold, 

Are we suffering persecution, trying God's commands 
to keep? 

Are our spirits crushed within us 1 Do we oft in si- 
lence weep ? 

From the world naught else we look for ; we expect 
its coldest frown ; 

But when those we love turn from us, how we sink in 
sorrow down ! 



POEMS. 89 



Where we've felt God's image planted, where in union 

we have prayed, 
Where our faith has f^ained the victory, and we knew 

from Heaven our aid, 
Oh ! what change has cooled the fervor ; what could 

mean this cokl retreat 1 
Lord, let thine in union ever, and in love, each other 

greet. 

God's own searching eye is on us ! Jesus feels our 

every grief ! 
He'll not leave his own thus wounded, but will bring 

them swift relief ; 
Making known our every duty, teaching where he'd 

have us go, 
Saying, Fear not ! I'll be with you, and all needed 

help bestow. 

Though you see your bread withholden, find no place 

to lay your head ; 
Cast your ail on Heaven's protection : God to life can 

raise the dead ! 
Who the widow's oil replenished "? Who kept good 

her needed store, 
When Elijah shared her morsel, having naught to 

purchase more 1 

If we blindly hug earth's treasures, where shall we a 

shelter find 1 
Soon the plagues will be upon us ! all then on the 

altar bind. 
Do you say 'tis on the altar ? By the fruit it will be 

known : 
God is searching out his people, and is sealing for 

his own. 

Let us fear lest we offend him, and he pass our dwell- 
ing by : 



90 POEMS. 



He will have a holy people, whom no plague can e'er 
come nigh. 

Haste to get thee disentangled ! Haste to get from 
bondage free ! 

Lose not for this world's possessions, life and immor- 
tality ! 



Early Recollections, 

I look back to the past, call to mind former days ; 
When life was all life, all illumined its rays ; 
When I entered the ball room in pleasing attire, 
Having all that my vain mind or wish could desire. 

I had naught here to check, all elated in mind. 
Both pastor and people the gay circle joined ; [rare. 
When the priest craved a blessing on dainties most 
Oh ! why should 1 think any harm could be there ? 

No cloiid had come o'er me ; all prospects were 

bright ; 
This vain course I pursued with exqui:>ite delight ; 
I dreamed not that tears would these pleasures efface. 
That sickness and death would come in for a place. 

But my own dear loved father, in manhood and 

bloom, 
Was called from life's stage and consigned to the 

tomb ; 
How great such a change, and how solemn the day, 
The same priest referred to was with us to pray. 

Being then in youth's bloom, in its glory and prime. 
My grief wore away with the swiftness of time. 
True, a loss I sustained in his death ; but, all o'er, 
I again joined the song and the dance as before. 



POEMS. 91 



The scene soon was changed, we could just number 

years, 
When my mother, my dear mother left mc in tears; 
She died e're I'd come to the a.s:e of eighteen ; 
How deep was my grief, how afflictive the scene. 

To cheer, friends and relatives strove but in vain ; 

From weeping incessant I scarce could refrain ; 

The wound seemed too deep for this world e'er to 

heal ; 
That I'd no hope in God, I was then brought to feel. 

Repentance moved Jesus my sins to forgive ; 
I could trust in his word, on his promises live ; 
But I found no response, none to guide in the place ; 
Those around had no faith in a change wrovxght by 
grace. 

'Midst life's changing scenes, I most happily found 
A people Avho knew Heaven's own joyful sound ; 
Our union and love then were truly divine, 
I'd the witness, and knew Heaven's blessings were 
mine. 

I could then bless the Lord for this chastening rod ; 
How far above earth's this enjoyment in God ; 
The bight of earth's pleasures all dwindled away, 
In the light and the glory of this blessed day. 



The Chicle Broken, 

This dear, lone room, a sacred place — 
Here friends have met in love's embrace ; 
Here, too, have died the loved and dear. 
The circle first was broken here. 



92 POEMS 



The lonely hearth, the vacant chair, 
But tell the father is not there. 
The only daughter, loved and true, 
Here bid earth's scenes a last adieu. 

I love here to recall the past, 

And mourn o'er joys too bright to last. 

In fancy's vision here I see 

Those forms so loved, so dear to me. 



The Christianas Confidence, 

We know that help on one is laid 
Who has his life a ransom paid ; 
We know his blood can cleanse from sin, 
And make us clean and pure within. 

We know the arm that's strong to save. 
The power that rescues from the grave. 
We know that ne'er Jehovah's ear 
Is deafened that he cannot hear. 

Taken in Satan's artful snare. 
Who once had power with God in prayer, 
Their minds and hearts by sin enslaved — 
Can such go through ? can such be saved 

Though we may not their case decide. 
The faithful all will be supplied. 
They'll see " the cloud of radiant light," 
" The fount of glory " full and bright. 

They see the signs fulfilling fast ; 
And soon earth's conflict will be past : 
Nor do they shrink from beiug there ; 
For they presume not nor despair. 



POEMS. 93 



They know in whom they have believed ; 
Their Saviour victory has achieved. 
Thout^h heaven and earth to ruin go, 
His promise will no failure know. 

No cause for doubts or darkness here, 
For troubled mind or slavish fear. 
Trials and crosses we'll receive, 
If some may turn to God and live. 

But those who will not heed the call, 
For God and Heaven to give up all, 
May well sink down in dark despair; 
For they will gain no entrance there. 



For a Gathering of the Aged, 

Out from life's hour glass we must see our sands have 

nearly run, 
And we with social scenes in life shall surely soon 

have done. 
Be this improved, then, for our good ; our last days 

be our best. 
And in the final gathering we be found among the 

blest. 

On us is seen th' effect of age ; we see the furrowed 

brow. 
Time's stern realities o'ertake, and we are forced to 

bow. 
Compared the once bright, sparkling eye, the rosy, 

blooming cheek, 
Our present looks, infirmities, and form, do volumes 

speak. 



94 POEMS. 



Though some most helpless, others bowed, on all is 

seen decay, 
There're those o'er three-score years and ten who're 

youthful, blithe, and f?ay. 
Be such, then, hopeful, full of life, as may become us 

here. 
There's much at best t' imbitter life, to make it sad j 

and drear. 

We have unfading beauty here, if we have love di- 
vine, 

Howe'er defaced by time and age will nature's works 
outshine ; 

Its rays of light reflecting o'er this moral atmosphere, 

Will still be seen and felt for good, though we may 
disappear. 



This present meeting then will seem a little Heaven 

below, 
Its influence, too, be spread abroad wherever we may 

go. 
Be this the pleasing, glad result ; and then in fadeless 

bloom. 
We shall in beauty be arrayed beyond the silent 

tomb. 



Emptiness of Earth, 

What though while here we soar in fame, 
And gain earth's most illustrious name, 
Have heaps on heaps of sordid gold. 
No pleasures here desired, withhold. 

Be mayor, emperor and king ; 

To ligiit and use improvements bring ; 

For having some great place explored, 



POEMS. 95 



Be worshiped, honored and adored ; 

Your influence o'er an empire spread, 

And you looked np to as the head ; 

What then 1 the king and hero dies ; 

And though 'tis said the great here lies, 

'T might well be asked, " False marble, where' 

Nothing but sordid dust lies here." 

Thus earth's career, however grand, 

When called before their judge to stand, 

If not to God and Heaven resigned. 

Ere to the tomb they were consigned. 

Will prove no covering for the head, 

Though banners here were for them spread. 

What horror then must seize the heart, 

When God commands, from him depart; 

Though laws and statutes here they made, 

This sentence then must be obeyed. 



Sin's dread beginning here we know, 
Its issue none on earth can show ; 
But oh ! the " end, the dreadful end,' 
Of those who have in God no friend. 



The Christian 's Triumph, 

Ye idols all depart. 

The Lord shall have my heart ; 

I'm his by right. 
On him my sins were laid ; 
He has my ransom paid, 

In God's pure sight. 

Through him I'll conquer too. 
And an my sins subdue ; 
In him be free. 



POEMS. 



He died to have it so, 
And in his strength I'll go, 
Till him I see. 

Oh ! shall I see his face, 
And rest in his embrace 

Forevormore ? 
My soul is on the wing 
To glorify my King ; 

Him I adore. 

All Heaven adore him now, 
In adoration bow ; 

It is his due. 
For saints shall swell the song 
Of the angelic throng, 

In earth made new. 

They'll see him as he is, 
And know that they are his ; 

Be like him made. 
In union, all the same, 
There'll be to his dear name, 

True homage paid. 

Hail, that all-glorious place, 
When all the ransomed race, 

Their voices raise ; 
And all with sweet accord, 
Give glory to the Lord, 

In ceaseless praise. 

In Eden beauty dressed. 
Will be each heavenly guest. 

All blooming fair. 
This inward truth we k^iow, 
And there we long to go ; 

God will be there. 



A BRIEF SKETCH 

OF THE 
OF 

xlXNIE R. SMITH. 

Annie Rebekah Smith, only daughter of Sam- 
uel and Rebekah Smith, was born in West Wilton, 
N. H., March 16, 1828. When ten years of age, she 
was converted and joined the Baptist church, in which 
connection she remained till 1844, when she em- 
braced the doctrine of the soon coming of Christ, 
and withdrew from the church that she might more 
freely engage in the work of preparation for that 
event. After the passing of the time in 1844, being 
thrown with others into doubt respecting our position 
in the prophetic calendar, she pursued her favorite oc- 
cupations of studying and teaching. Commencing 
in 1844, as assistant in a select school kept by Miss 
Sarah Livermore, in Wilton, between that time and 
1850 she taught, in different places, seven district 
schools, attending, meanwhile, a term each in Mil- 
ford, Hancock and New Ipswich, N. H., and six 
terms at the Ladies' Female Seminary in Charles- 
town, Mass. At the latter place she fitted herself for 
a teacher in Oil Painting and French. 
7 



98 LIFE AND EXPERIENCE 

In 1850 she took a sketch of Boston and Charles- 
town from Prospect Hill, Somerville, three miles 
distant. The effort was too much for her eyes, and, 
for about eight months she almost entirely lost the 
use of them. On account of this difficulty, she was 
obliged to decline a'proposition to teach in the sem- 
inary at Hancock, w^hich made her misfortune seem 
almost intolerable, so great was her disappointment. 
The only alleviation which she found for her afflic- 
tion in this time, was in becoming an agent for, and 
contributor to, " The Ladies' Wreath," a monthly 
magazine published in New York. Her contribu- 
tions to this periodical, with the exception of a few 
pieces published in the " Odd Fellow," and some 
other papers, were her first efforts at public writing. 

Her friends in Charlestown, thinking the salt wat^r 
would prove a benefit to her eyes, invited her to 
spend a season with them. She went in 1851, not 
expecting to be gone mnay weeks, but did not return 
till November, 1852, when she was called home by 
the sickness and death of her fother. During her stay 
in Boston and vicinity she went to Portland and 
Nova Scotia. I requested her to go once, to please 
me, to sister Temple's, in Boston, to a Seventh-day 
Adventist meeting. Some remarkable incidents in 
connection with her attendance at this meeting, to- 
gether with the faithful efforts of the friends of the 
truth, an-ested her attention; and in about three 
weeks she committed herself upon the Sabbath and 
its attendant truths. The next week she sent to the 



OF ANNIE R. SMITH. 99 

" Advent Review " the piece of poeti'y entitled " Fear 
not, Little Flock," which was her first contribution 
to that paper. The " Review " was then published 
in Saratoga, N. Y., and she was immediately re- 
quested to take a position in that office. She replied 
that she could not, on account of the trouble with 
her eyes, but was told to come as she was, or to that 
effect. Arriving there, the directions in James 5 : 14, 
15, were followed, and her eyes were so far strength- 
ened in answer to prayer, that she was soon enabled 
to engage without restraint in the work of the office. 
. With strong faith and fervent zeal, she entered 
heartily into the work. She rejoiced in the new- 
found truth. The whole current of her mind was 
changed, and nobler aspirations took possession of 
her heart. From a position of exaltation and honor 
among men, she had now turned her eyes to an in- 
heritance incorruptible, undefiled, reserved in Heaven 
for the followers of Christ, and to a place at last with 
the redeemed before the throne. Her contributions 
to the " Review" while it was published in Saratoga 
and Rochester, N. Y., afterwards published in her 
volume of poems, entitled, '• Home here, and Home 
in Heaven," show the themes upon which her mind 
delighted to dwell. 

In November, 1852, as already stated, she was 
called home by the sickness of her father, who died 
the first of December following. In January, 1853, 
before returning to N. Y., she was solicited, in con- 
nection with her brother Uriah, to take charge of the 

LofC. 



100 LIFE AND EXPERIENCE 

Academy in Mont Vernon, N. H., with a salary for 
the first year, of one thousand dollars, and a prospect 
of increase as thev should brino^ the school up to a 

o r j 

greater degree of prosperity. But she preferred to 
labor in some capacity where her efforts would tend 
more directly to spread a knowledge of the truth 
among the people, and lead them to seek salvation 
through Christ the Saviour of men. She therefore ; 
declined the offer, preferring, without any pecuniary 
consideration, to again connect herself with the 
office. 

Two yeai's later, in November, 1854, she came home 
to West Wilton, suffering under the first stages of 
that disease which shortly brought her to the grave. 
The following from a letter to a friend, Avritten soon 
after her death, sets forth the occasion of her last 
sickness, and the circumstances attending the closing 
hours of her life : 

On account of sickness in the family where she 
boarded, she as?i-!ted in the kitchen 'awhile, whore was 
a warm stove, and in consequence of a letter being 
left, she hastened with it to the office unprepared for 
a cold wet morning. Had she returned immediately, i 
as she should have done, all might have been well. | 
But she stayed through the day, as her work was j 
there, and became very cold and chilly. That cold 
undoubtedly seated itself immediately upon her lungs, 
and threw her into night sweats and a hard cough, 
which ended but with her life. 

So rapid was the wasting process of her disease, \ 
that within six weeks from the time she took the r 
cold, she rode up in the cars, on her way home, with j 
an intimate acquaintance of hers who did not know j 



OF ANNIE R. SMITH. 101 

her. He told me lie thought of her, hut thought it 
could not be Annie, she was so altered in her looks, 
being so poor and pale. Her brother Samuel said he 
did not think he should have known her had he met 
her unexpectedly, and said with a most dejected look, 
" I don't think she will live." 

She came home the 7th of November, kept about 
and worked some till about the 1st of December, when 
she had a very distressed day, and raised blood. Hav- 
ing confidence in water treatment, she went where 
she could receive such treatment, to see the effect it 
would have, and to get information. She continued 
this course till the following February. She felt bet- 
ter while under the exhilarating effect of the water, 
but became satisfied that she Avas no better. 

The 14th of February, most providentially, Bro. 
Joseph Bates called on us, and stopped till the 18th. 
This was the occasion of a great blessing to her. At 
the commencement of the Sabbath, the 16th, the 
spirit and power of God descended upon her, and she 
praised God with a loud voice. I felt at the same 
time the sweet influence of Heaven, and the presence 
of holy angels. I believed God was hearing prayer, 
and granting his blessing, an.l joined them in prais- 
ing and giving glory to his name, Bro. B. then 
said to Annie, "You needed this blessing, and now if 
the Lord sees that it is best for you to be laid away 
in the grave, he will go with you." 

She appeared some stronger and better a few days 
in the day time, but I could not see that she rested, or 
was much diifei'ent nights. Her cough remained ob- 
stinate, and I do not think the disease was ever stayed. 
She was greatly strengthened in a spiritual point of 
view, and engaged more earnestly in exhorting peo- 
ple to believe the Word, and be ready for the coming 
of the Lord. She would feel impressed to go out and 
talk with different individuals upon the truth, and 
was strengthened and blessed in so doing. Victory 



102 SICKNESS a:nd death 

was generally gained, so that the truth was verified, 
that whom the Lord makes free is free indeed. We 
had from that time as long as she lived, some of the 
most sweet, melting seasons of prayer that I ever en- 
joyed, often accompanied with shouts of praise to the 
Lord. 

It was evident to all around that Annie was fail- 
ing. Her symptoms became alarming. The 20th of 
March her brother Samuel was taken suddenly and 
very sick with influenza and fever, three miles and 
a half away at his boarding place, and unable to get 
home. Annie said I must go and attend upon him, 
even if she never saw me again. 

The 30th she went to Mason Village to stay with 
sister Gorham, while I was with her brother. While 
there, word came that Annie was much worse. The 
12th of April I went to Mason Village, and found 
her very much worse than I expected. For twelve 
days her death was almost hourly expected by those 
around. She said to me, "Mother, that poem I've 
been writing since January, 1855, [since published 
under the title of " Home Here and Home in Heav- 
en,"] I suppose must all be lost. It is unconnected, 
and nothing can be done with it to advantage, with- 
out me." I went to Wilton and got the papers con- 
taining what she had written, but she was not able to 
do anything with them. She then prayed that she 
might be enabled to finish the poem, and prepare the 
book she had in contemplation ; that if she did not 
live, it might be that through it, she being dead would 
yet speak, and that good might be done. 

Sabbath April 21, the meeting was at sister Goi*- 
ham's. We did not hold it in her room on account 
of her low state of health, but went in to close the 
exercises, Avhen to our surprise she commenced pray- 
ing with more than usual strength. The presence of 
God Avas manifested, and his power rested down upon 
her in a remarkable manner. She said she was 



OF ANNIE R. SMITH. 103 



raised up to go home, and to do the will of the Lord. 
She rested better that night than she had for a long 
while. The next day she rode to Wilton, seven miles, 
to the astonishment of all. Many from our village 
had been to see her, and taken their leave, never ex- 
pecting to see her again ; and when they saw the car- 
riage drive up, they came in to inquire when she 
died. Great was their surprise to find her able to 
walk about the room. She was again in her own 
quiet home, and soon commenced on her work. She 
was not able to write much herself, and I kept paper 
and pencil to write what she dictated at her Avill. 

The 28th of May she had arranged and composed 
the last verse of her poem " Home Here and Home in 
Heaven." The 29th, her brother Uriah came home 
just in time to write it off for the press, and to assist 
her in arranging her other poetry for reprinting. 
She, however, made some alterations, and some little 
additions while he was copying it. 

She dreamed in February that she was with a peo- 
ple, seemingly spectators, and before her was the most 
beautiful road, which glistened like gold. There was 
a company arranged by the side, and some one came 
to her with a peou}'^, and said to her, ** You must go 
over upon that road and hold up this peony." She 
stood there dressed in white, holding up the peony, 
when she awoke with the most pleasing impression, 
that she had yet something more to do for the Lord. 
She fully believed after she came from Mason, 
that she should accomplish the work she had in view, 
and that this was what was represented by her dream. 
The peony was her favorite flower, and as soon as 
they were in blossom, Uriah sketched and engraved 
one for the book, as is seen on the title page. 

She often said in view of her dream, that when the 
book Avas done there would be a change in her. She 
should either be raised up to live, or she should die. 
Her prayer was answered. The book was all done 



104 SICKNEvSS AND DEATH 

on her part, and as she had a desire to see the proof- 
sheet of her poem, and heard that help was needed 
at the olhce, she said to Uriah, " I feel bad to have 
you stavini^- on my account, when it seems you might 
be accomplishing more good." It Avas thought she 
might live till frosty nights, if no longer. Under 
these considerations, Uriah left for Rochester the 17th 
of July. He had not been gone with the manuscript 
more than three hours, when she said, "I am r.eady 
now to die ;" and she did not live quite ten days after. 

The 18th she wrote the piece " Our Dnty." The 
19th, at 3 o'clock, p. M., she said, "Mother, some 
change has taken place. I don't think I shall live 
through the day." I saw there was a change, and 
stayed by lier. Night drew on. No one happened 
in." She'^said, " It s'eems to me I could not breathe to 
have many in the room." I told her I was not afraid 
to be alone with her if she did die. She seemed grat- 
ified, as she wanted everything as quiet as could be, 
and she was not able to talk much with people if they 
were in. Her brother John and myself stayed with 
her during the night, when it seemed that any mo- 
ment might be her last. She delivered many mes- 
sages for diff rent individuals, especially for her broth- 
er Samuel, if she did not live to see him. She said, 
" My mind was never clearer ; I could do a sum in 
arithmetic." 

About 2 o'c'ock she looked very happy. I said to 
John, "Annie is being ble.-sod " She soon exclaimed, 
'■ Glory to God," a number of times, louder than she 
had spoken far a long while. She said, "Heaven is 
opened. I know Jesus is mine, and that he will save 
me. I shall come forth at the first resurrection ;" 
and exhorted us to prepare for tlie time of trouble, 
and to be ready to meet her at that day, Avhich she 
said she did not think was far distant. 

Friday morning, tbe 20th, I wanted to write to 
Uriah, but she said "It will make no difFerence, I think 



OF ANNIE R. SMITH. 105 

I am dyin<^ ; don't leave me, mother, Avhilc I live." 
We sent for Samuel, and for sister Gorham. She re- 
mained about the same. Those who came in thought 
she must be just gone. They said it did not seem 
like a sick and dying room, she appeared so happy. 
She would look upon them and smile when she could 
not speak. Sa])bath, July 21, she seemed better. 
Sunda3', the 22d, more distressed, thongh she had 
some pleasing, and I trust profitable intercourse with 
her relatives and some of her particular friends. 
Monday morning, more comfortable. Some of us en- 
tertained hopes that she might, even then, revive and 
live. Monday night her distress returned. She said, 
"I think I cannot live." Thursday morning, the 24th, 
she composed her last two verses, "Oh ! shed not a tear 
o'er the spot where I sleep," &c. In the afternoon 
she had a conflict with the enemy, and seemed to lose 
sight of Jesus. I told her it was no strange thing; 
it was only a sign the Lord was near and would de- 
liver. She found it even so. Before night she was 
enabled to triumph over all the powers of darkness, 
and praised God aloud. She prayed for patience to 
suffer all her Father's will, saying, " I shall not suffer 
any too much. I can bear anything while Jesus sus- 
tains me;" and many like exjjressions. 

Tuesday night was a solemn and interesting night. 
I stayed Avith her alone through the night. ISIeither 
of us slept. She was very happy, and talked much 
with me. She said in her former familiar way, "My 
mother, I've been afraid I should wear you all out. 
I've called after yon by night and by day." She felt 
bad to have me kept up as I was on her account. 
But she said, "I am here now, your dying girl. I 
think this is the last night, and you must be sure to 
rest when I am gone. 0, my blessed mother, I shall 
bless you in Heaven for taking such care of me. No 
sorrow or suffering thei'e. We shall all be free there. 
Yes, we shall all be free when we arrive at home, and 



106 SICKNESS AND DEATH 

we shall live forever. Yes, and I can smile upon you 
now through all my sufferings." It was her last 
suffering night. Wednesday, the 25th, a death cold- 
ness was upon her. In the afternoon she became 
more free from pain and distress. While speaking in 
the evening of taking care of her, she said, " I shall 
not want any one to sit up ; you can lie on the lounge." 
At 1 o'clock I called Samuel. She talked with him, 
called for what she wanted as usual, and told him he 
might lie down. About three o'clock she called him 
to wet her head with water, and said she felt sleepy. 
She was indeed going into her last sleep. Samuel 
wet her head, and soon after spoke to me and said, 
" I don't know but Annie is dying." I spoke to her. 
She took no notice, breathed a few times, and died 
apparently as easy as any one going into a natural 
sleep. Her suffeiings were over. She was gone. It 
was 4 o'clock in the morning, July 26, 1855. 

She gave many directions about her burial ; wanted 
as little parade as possible. We were expecting Bro. 
and sister White. We had had a letter from Bro. H. 
O. Nichols, saying they were expected there, and 
would be likely to call on us about that time. Brn. 
Bates, Burr and Nichols were written to, but circum- 
stances prevented any of them from attending her 
funeral. Bro. Hastings and others spoke, prayed, and 
sung, to the edification of all. The hymns selected 
were, " Unconscious now in peaceful sleep," and "She 
hath passed death's chilling billow." It has since 
been said by the friends that they never attended a 
mere interesting funeral. 

Annie looked very natiiral ; more so than at any 
time after she came home. It was remarked that a 
holy sweetness seemed to rest upon her countenance, 
Avhile her remains Avere with us. Annie had many 
favors shown her. For the interest and friendship 
manifested, the friends have my .sincere love and grat- 
itude. Though I ever thought much of them, they 



or ANNIE R. SMITH. 107 



seem doubly dear since her death, especially Bro. and 
sister White, with whom she was so long connected. 
Annie loved them, and manifested an interest for 
them, and the work there till the last. Bro. White 
made her the generous donation of seventy-five dol- 
lars and other valuable presents, during her sickness. 

It was a great satisfaction that I had Annie with 
me, and that I was enabled to take care of her while 
she lived. Her complaints required an uneven tem- 
perature of the room, Avhich was unfavorable for me. 
I took one cold after another, and was very much 
worn down at the time of her death. I took an addi- 
tional cold when she was buried, and have scarcely 
been able to do anything since. I have thought some- 
times, that what I had the privilege of doing for An- 
nie, was worth my life, if it must go ; and if it were 
not that I was still needed as a mother, I would now 
myself willingly lay off the burden of life's duties 

West Wilton, N. H., Sept. 16, 185.5. 



POEMS, BY ANNIE E. SMITH. 



The Friends of my Youth : Where are 
Thet/? 

Oh, Avliere are they who once did tread 
With me, in youth's sweet sunny morn, 
The winding labyrinths that led 
Where sweetest flowers the path adorn ; 
And gladsome birds send forth their lay, 
And rivulets murmur on their way 1 

Oh, where are all the glad and gay, 
That filled the brightly-lighted hall ; 
With loving hearts to music's lay, 
liesponded to the joyous call 1 
With blooming cheeks and beaming eye, 
They dreamed of joy and heaved no sigh. 

Some swept adown life's rolling tide. 
By summer breezes borne along, 
With prosperous gale they gently glide. 
Like some sweet fairy boat of song ; 
And bask in pleasui-e's sunny fold. 
And revel in their glittering gold. 

And some are rudely borne along, 
By dark misfortune's chilly blast ; 
The storm and tempest coming on, 
The sky with clouds is overcast, 
Till weary of their toil and care, 
They sink in darkness and despair. 



108 POEMS. 



And some, whose sunny hopes have fled, 
Like th' withered and cleserted flower, 
On which no tenderness is shed, — 
They sicken in a sinule hour ; 
And e'en in youth and beauty's bloom, 
Are ushered to the silent tomb. 

And some in yonder graA-eyai-d sleep, 
Beneath the ever verdant soil ; 
Where mortals ne'er are known to weep : 
They rest from all their pain and toil ; 
Away from care, from sin set free, 
They peaceful rest, O God, in Thee. 

A few are left to struggle on, 
Through dangers that beset life's way; 
To mourn that all the loved are gone. 
To Aveep and struggle, and to pray, 
That all in Heaven at last may meet, 
And joy each other there to greet. 



Ode to the Winds. 

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds. 

As though ye tain would seek 
Some quiet rest ye cannot tind. 

In this cold world so bleak. 
Sound on, sound on ; ye bring to mind 

The bright and joyful past ; 
The golden hours of sunny yore. 

That were too bright to last. 

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds. 

Like thee, 'mid bitter tears, 
In vain I sigh for brighter days. 

In other happier years. 



POEMS. 109 



Sound on, sound on ; ye seem to tell 

That all things here decay; 
The brightest flowers the soonest oft 

Will droop and pass away. 

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds ; 

Thy strange, mysterious voice 
Seems like some spirit hovering near, 

Bidding my heart rejoice. 
Sound on, sound on ; for oh ! ye tell 

Of a long, peaceful home, 
Beyond this dark and fleeting world, 

Where sorrows never come. 

Sound on, sound on, ye whistling winds ; 

Your moaning, solemn tone 
Does with this heart so well accord, 

So dreary, sad and lone. 
Sound on, sound on ; for oh ! ye've power 

To soothe each rising sigh, 
And waft my spirit far away. 

Where pleasures never die. 



Lines 

Suggested by the Wreck of the Minot Ledge Lighthouse. 

On the rock, a beacon lighted, 

Shone upon the stormy wave ; 
There to guide the bark, benighted : 

Home of those, the true and brave. 
Clouds of wrath the skies are veiling, 

Danger, wreck, and death are nigh ; 
Lone and wild, the sea-bird's wailing 

As the storm-wind whistles bv. 



110 POEMS. 



Tempests rave — fierce roars the ocean, 

Hii^her swells the anjrry foam ; 
Winds and waves in wild commotion, 

Fearful rock their storm-tossed home. 
Niyht of anguish, wo and sorrow. 

Wrapt in midnight's pall of gloom, 
Gleams no light upon the morrow. 

Dark beneath a waterj tomb. 

Hark ! the bell is loudly ringing 

With a d'^ep, and solemn Avail. 
Death-like knells around arc flinging. 

In the wild, terrific gale. 
Still, the beacon-light is flashing, 

None could reach them from the shore. 
Towering waves, in fury dashing, 

They must sink to rise no more. 

Wrecks along the shore are lying, 

On the heaving surges tossed ; 
Mournful winds and waves are sigliing. 

Ocean's requiem for the lost ; 
Mighty dome, by tempest shattered, 

Billows o'er thee darkly sweep, 
Treasure far more precious, scattered 

In the bosom of the deep. 

Far beneath the rolling billow, 

Sleep the noble, young and brave ; 
Ocean's coral bed their pillow, 

And their shroud, the foamy wave ; 
Wreck or monument, nuiy never 

Point the fatal rock, swept bare ; 
But enshrined in m. mory, ever, 

Faithful hearts that perished there. 



POEMS. Ill 



Lines 

Addressed to a little Orphan Child. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

I see thee happy now, 
With jjlossy rini;lets waving 

O'er thy sunny hrow; 
With tender heart as \\\rht and free 

As birds in summer air, 
With beauty, grace, that well might vie 

With rose and lily fair. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

The tears steal down my cheek, 
For oh ! how little dreamest thou 

The world is cold and bleak ; 
How little knowest thou the toil, 

The turmoil, care, and strife, 
The tears, the sighs, that may beset 

The orphan's path in life. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

'Tis bitter hard to roam 
In this cold, dark, unfeeling world, 

Both fritndless and alone. 
Where friendship ends in selfish aims, 

Lips smile but to deceive, 
Unkindness mars the spirit's peace. 

And leaves the heart to grieve. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

For thee is pained my heart ; 
Should sickness p^le thy rosy cheek. 

And light and hope depart, — 
Oh, who would then be near to bathe 

The weary, aching head. 
And twine around thee, arms of love. 

And joy and gladness shed. 



112 POEMS. 



Poor little orplian child ! 

Thou'lt miss a mother's care, 
To watch thy youthful steps, 

Tliy little griefs to share; 
No voice is like a mother's voice, 

No look so sweet and mild, 
No smile is like her loving smile, 

Upon a darling child. 

Oh ! yc who revel in your ease. 

The orphan's cry should heed, 
Nor with a cold inditlerence 

Treat them in hour of need. 
Ye know not of the anguish deep. 

That rends their aching heart, 
Or of the woe and misery 

Your cold words may impart. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

May angels guide their way, 
Por there are thousand treacherous paths. 

That lead the feet astray. 
Sin comes in many a dazzling form, — 

Fearful the tempter's power, 
Oh, God of love forbid thy fall, 

In the dnrk, trying hour. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

Should tears e'er dim the eye, 
And grief and sorrow fill the soul, 

And friends! no one be nigh ; 
There is afriend above, on whom 

Cast all thy earthly care, 
Who ne'er forsakes the fatherless. 

But hears the orphan's prayer. 



Poor little orphan child ! 

I would not shade thy brow, 
By telling thee of after years, 

To make thee sorrow now. 
Oh, no ! in childish innocence 

Play on with life and glee, 
With dimpled cheek and joyous laugh. 

So happy, pure and free. 

Poor little orphan child ! 

Blest be thy passage o'er 
The ever changing sea of life, 

To Canaan's peaceful shore. 
There mayst thou safely land 

Where sorrow ne'er will come, 
To join thy loved — that happy band 

In one eternal home. 



Oh! Let me be on the Stortny Sea, 

Oh ! let me be on the stormy sea. 

Where darksome clouds arise ; 
When the waters dash and the lightnings flash. 

Along the dismal skies ; 
There I should be so wild and free. 
Oh ! let me roam, on the ocean wave 
Oh ! give me a home. 

Oh ! let me be on tlie stormy sea, 

When the tempests madly rave ; 
Where no voice is heard, save the wild sea bird, 

As it skims o'er the foamy wave ; 
No strife and care would reach me there, 
■^rhcn let mc roam, on the ocean wave 
Oh ! give me a home. 



114 POEMS 



Oh ! let me be on the stormy sea. 
For there is the home of the brave ; 

We never fear when danger's near, 
Tossed on the towering wave ; 

Boklly they sail through wind and gale. 

There let me roam, on the ocean wave 

Oh ! give me a home. 

Oh ! let me be on the stormy sea, 
Where the raging billows bound ; 

Where the roaring surge and mournful dirge 
Is ever heard around ; 

Where the wild winds sigh, as they whistle by. 

Oh ! there would I roam, on the ocean wave 

Oh ! give me a home. 

Oh ! let me be on the stormy sea. 

Far down in the briny deep ; 
On corals gay, myriads lay. 

In their last silent sleep. 
Beneath the wave, a wat'ry grave 
They've found. No more they'll roam — 
'Neath ocean's wave thev'vc found a home. 



The Exiled JPHsoner, 

Lines occasioned by the Story of an Exile who died of 
grief on meeting a former friend. 

I met him in his gloomy cell. 

Where all alone and sad, 
He spent the darksome day and night 

In homely vesture clad. 
No golden sunlight ever threw 

Its lustre o'er his room ; 
No gladsome voices ever clicered 
* Its dreariness and gloom. 



POEMS. 115 



Oh ! he was fair and beautiful, 

With clustering auburn hair, 
Tliat waved in many a ringlet o'er 

The brow of genius rare — 
The loved in his sweet native land, 

The pride of his dear home. 
Once he, who sat within these walls. 

In iron fetters lone. 

I wept as I did on him look. 

For we were friends in youth ; 
Together trod the selfsame path 

Of wisdom and of truth ; 
Together roamed o'er hill and dale, 

As happy, light, and free 
As joyous birds in summer air. 

In boyish pride and glee. 

Ah ! strangely altered now his face. 

Depicted with despair ; 
Yet still methought that I could trace 

Some former beauty there. 
Yet something of the light had gone 

That flashed his raven eye, 
And pallid cheek, and thin, white lip. 

Told of full many a sigh. 

Oh ! tell me, friend, in grief he cried, 

About my joyful home. 
And those bright, sunny fields o'er which 

We used to sport and roam. 
Oh ! is the waterfall still there, 

Wherein I used to play, 
Without one thought of grief and care, 

Through all the livelong day. 



116 POEMS. 



And is my father, mother, there. 

And brother, sister kind 1 
And do they know my hopeless lot, 

In this dark cell confined ? 
Oh ! could I see them but once more, 

And press them to my breast, 
And meet their sweet, forgiving smile. 

My weary soul could rest. 

Ah ! had I not too fondly loved, 

I had not seen this day. 
Apart from all that I hold dear. 

Alone to waste away. 
A rival came — with vilest art 

Allured her from my side, 
And triumphed in my loss, until 

She found him false, and died. 

Sick of the world, I left my home, 

Far from parental care ; 
I roved, a wild and thoughtless thing-. 

Exposed to eveiy snare, 
Till tossed on fortune's faithless sea, 

I sought to drown my woe 
In revelry and crime, that's brought 

Me in this dungeon low. 

Oh ! cruel Fate that bids me dwell 

In this cold, living tomb ! 
Oh ! mother, couldst thou see me here, 

And know my deepest gloom. 
Thou wouldst forgive thy erring- son; 

And heal bis broken heart; 
Repenting, thou wouldst soothe his grief. 

And words of love impart. 



POEMS. 117 



Upon his knees, his hands he clasped, 

In agony he cried — 
We part ! the past comes o'er my brain 

Like an overwhelming- tide ; 
'Tis like a dark and troubled dream, 

That fain I would forget — 
Bnt oh! through all the day and night 

Its horror haunts me yet. 



Ah ! wildly now he gazed around 

The cell ; no more he said, 
Save in some broken accents wild, 

For reason now had fled. 
I looked again — his noble form 

Lay stretched upon the floor ; 
He gave one last, one bitter groan- 

The prisoner was no more. 



The Clouds. 

How beautiful the clouds, 
The morning's purple cloud-i ; 
How sweet they calm reposing lie 
In yonder deep blue azure sky, 
Streaked with crimson pale and red, 
Fair as violets in their bed ; 
Gliding, floating, moving ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 

How beautiful the clouds. 
The noontide's burning clouds ; 
Mountains of pure white driven snow. 
In upper regions on they go ; 
Pillars of ever living light, 
Piles of crystal gems as bright, 



118 POEMS 



Gliding, moving, hunying ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 

How beautiful the clouds, 
The dark and rolling clouds ; 
With tempest, storm, and fury crowned, 
Where lightnings fiercely play around ; 
Terrific, grand, sublime, they rise 
When pealing thunders rend the skies ; 
Whirling, heaving, rolling ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 

How beautiful the clouds, 
The golden sunset clouds ; 
Tinged with yellow, mellow light, 
Warm, rich hues that gladden sight ; 
As sinks the Avave in ocean's breast, 
So fades the many-colored west ; 
Fading, passing, gliding ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 

How beautiful the clouds, 
The evening, moonlit clouds ; 
On tireless wings of snowy hue 
They move through heaven's ethereal blue 
Like fairy forms of crystal light, 
Arrayed in robes of silver white ; 
Gliding, floating, moving ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 

And in our weary march, 
The Avhirling, passing clouds 
Are emblems of life's hurried way, 
Swift passing doAvn its fleeting day ; 
In smiles and tears the restless mind 
Is ever seeking — ne'er to find — 
A resting place — but hurrying ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 



POEMS. 119 



Youth's hopes, oh ! what are they, 
But clouds of changing hue ; 
Sometimes they're tinged with golden light. 
Beaming with softening beauty bright ; 
Like clouds they fade, they pass, they die, 
And leave no trace upon the sky ; 
Fleeting, fading, passing ever 
Onward, onward, stopping never. 

I'd be, when life shall wane, 

Like white-winged clouds of even ; 

Through fields of endless day I'd roam, 

And find me there a starry home ; 

Beyond this world, far, far, away, 

To Heaven's own light I'd wing my way ; 

Through realms of bliss there roaming ever 

Onward, onward, stopping never. 



The Unchanged, 

I saw her 'mid the birds and blossoms when a rosy 

laughing child. 
Playing by the silver rivulet, joyous in its murmur- 

ings wild ; 
Now wandering o'er the sunny green with buoyant 

step and free, 
In the mild and balmy breeze that fanned the flowery 

lee. 

In life's fair spring-time, when the heart is lightest, 

free from care, 
"When fimcy spreads her pinions wide and soars on 

wings of air. 
Earth's mantling robe, so brightly decked with rain- 

boAV-colored hue. 
Came o'er the soul in visions soft as falls the pearly 

dew. 



120 POEMS. 



The morn of youth was on her cheek when love her 

bosom thrilled, 
With golden dreams of future bliss her gentle soul 

was filled — 
Unsullied by the world's cold strife, its darkness and 

untruth. 
When in its tender infancy, the guileless love of 

youth. 

She thought the world could ne'er be lone while one 
might not depart. 

Who was the worshiped idol of her young and 
trusting heart ; 

His dark eyes woke the flame within of soul-lit lus- 
trous hue, 

To be unquenched— the holy light of pure devotion true. 

Genius marked his lofty brow for wreathing chaplets 

fair, 
And from the deeply-treasured fount of knowledge 

rich and rare. 
She quaffed the crystal streams that flowed, with kind 

and fervent heart. 
As flowers Avill gather sweetness that may never more 

depart. 

And oft she gazed with rapture on that bright an- 
gelic face, 

So radiant and beautiful Avith eloquence and grace; 

His voice, like tones of music sweet, bound with a 
magic spell, 

As gems of wisdom fi'om his lips in heavenlv accents 
fell. 

In fashion's brilliant halls, where gay alluring pleas- 
ures throng. 

No flattering smiles could win her from her child- 
hood's happy song ; 



POEMS. 121 



When many a garland twined hei' brow and passion's 

voice soft fell, 
She was true to him who knew not how she had loved 

so well. 

Ah ! cruel fate that bids the shades of change with 

fleeting years, 
Sad separation's bitter pang must dim with burning 

tears — 
Like some lone beacon's glimmering ray the star of 

hope shall be, 
To guide the bark by tempest driven o'er life's dark, 

troubled sea. 

The cherished love of early years say not she can for- 
get, _ 

That springs in youth's fresh vernal prime, and with 
its tears are wet ; 

Its tender buddings crushed may be, and blighted its 
return. 

Its wasted fragrance lingers still around its broken urn. 

When time shall fade youth's glowing charms, its 
joy and romance fled. 

Love's purest flame is shining o'er the altar of the 
dead — 

Through desert paths and weary of life's ever-chang- 
ing day, 

With light and peace his memory shall pave her 
lonely way. 

I saw her in the moonlit vale, a lovely maiden's form, 
Her spirit in illusions wrapped, her cheek with vigor 

warm ; 
Untouched by sorrow's withering hand, so pale, for 

hers were dreams 
Of other years — that for the night had cast their halo 

beams. 



122 POEMS. 



And may the silken tie so fond, unbroken e'er remain, 
Bright angels hover round her way to shield till life 

shall Avane ; 
Unchanging be the heart's first love, till in immortal 

bloom. 
In yonder Paradise her home and rest beyond the 

tomb. 



Lines 

Written on the Death of Lorenzo D. Upham. 

Lamented youth, thy spirit now has fled. 

Thy youthful form in earth's cold bosom lies. 

"Why art thou numbered with the early dead ? 
Who Avould not weep when one so lovely dies ? 

Whywert thou thus cut down in manhood's bloom, 
When life to thee was all a summer's day, 

Consigned imto the dark and silent tomb. 
Nought but a lump of cold and lifeless clay? 

And oft the mourner there doth go and weep. 
And youthful friends shed many a bitter tear 

For him who lies in his last, dreamless sleep, 
For him they loved and ever held most dear. 

We miss thee, brother, in our youthful band, 
Thy words of love, thy gentle accents sweet ; 

But thou hast left us in this dreary land, 
No more shall we thy social presence greet. 

Thou wast a noble youth, the younger son, 
Thy father's hope and solace in his years ; 

But short thy stay ; ah ! soon life's labor done, 
Soon thou hast left a weary vale of tears. 



POEMS. 123 



Yes ; thou hast left a world of care and toil, 

Where storms and tempests o'er our pathway rise, 

Calmly to sleep beneath the verdant soil. 
Till called triumphant to the upper skies. 

Then rest thee, brother, free from all thy pain, 
Above thee bloom the rose and violet fair. 

We would not wish thee back to earth ajrain. 
But let thee calmly, sweetly, slumber there. 



To M, D. B. On the present of a pen. 

Dear sister, words cannot express 
To you ra}^ heartfelt thankfulness ; 
Or with what pleasure I behold 
This precious gift — a pen of gold. 

I prize it more, while now I see 
In it remembrance kind of me ; 
Which fills me with delight untold 
In viewing my new pen of gold. 

And thee, at morn and evening tide, 
As past the fleeting moments glide, 
Shall I remember, while I hold 
Within my grasp this pen of gold. 

With newer zeal I now would write. 
Dispensing nought but truth and light ; 
And richer treasures fain unfold, 
The pi'oducts of my pen of gold. 

And when our weary task is done. 
The conflict o'er, the victory won. 
May we be found of finest mold, 
As tried, refined, and pure as gold. 



12i POEMS. 



Be Cheerful, 

Be cheerful ! Be cheerful ! 

At the breaking of morn, 
When the sun's gladd'ning rays 

The earth shall adorn ; 
Be cheerful when noon 

Shall its brightness display. 
Be cheerful when eve 

Ends the toil of the day, 
For all natiTre is cheering 

With harmonious voice ; 
All nature is bidding 

Be glad and rejoice. 

Be cheerful ! Be cheerful ! 

Whatever thy lot ! 
If trottble awaits thee, 

Thy woes are forgot. 
Be cheerful, and light 

Thy path shall surround; 
With cheerfulness let 

Every moment be crowned, 
For all nature is cheering 

With harmonious A^oice, 
All nature is bidding 

Be glad and rejoice. 

Be cheerful ! Be cheerful ! 

Let not the few days 
That we spend on this earth 

Be void of its lays. 
Oft the ills we endure, 

From the future we borrow ; 
Then be cheerful to-day — 

Think not of the morrow ; 



POEMS. 125 



For all nature is cheering 
With harmonious voice, 

All nature is bidding- 
Be glad and rejoice. 

Be cheerful ! Be cheerful ! 

In life's joyful spring-, 
When summer its beauties 

And glories shall bring. 
Be cheerful when autumn 

Shall mantle in gloom, 
When the winter of age 

Brings near to the tomb; 
For all nature is cheering 

With harmonious voice, 
All nature is bidding 

Be glad and rejoice. 



The Sister ^s Devotion, 

There is no floAver, brother, ho we'er so sweetly bloom- 

But it will fade in night ; 
No sunny sky with beams so bright illuming. 

But clouds may shade its light. 
But oh ! there is a sister's love. 

In sorrow's night unfading, 
That clouds of earthborn care or woe 

Ne'er will its light be shading-. 

Chorus : 

Oh ! brother, then prize a sister's devotion, 

Ever pure, unchanging-, sincere. 
Whose heart for thee beats with tender emotion, 

And shareth each smile and each tear. 



126 POEMS. 



The beaming eye, brother, lit bright with smiles en- 
wreathing, 

Tears may unbidden dim, 
The soul of music's melody, sweet breathing. 

Discordant strains may hymn. 
But oh ! there is a lister's voice 

To cheer with kind words spoken ; 
Her hand may wake sweet strains again 

From harp-strings that were broken. 

Chorus : Oh ! brother, then prize — 

Fame's starry hight, brother, howe'er its gems al- 
luring, 

Cold storms and tempests crown ; 
The form of genius fair may fall, enduring 

The world's dark chilling frown. 
But oh ! there is a sister's heart, 

Forever true, unshaken, 
That ne'er grows cold, but closer clings, 

When all else has forsaken. 

Chorus : Oh ! brother, then prize — 

Our golden dreams, brother, we so fondly cherish, 

May change like morning's rays ; 
Youth's fairest joys and pleasures all may perish, 

With years that pass away. 
But oh ! there is a sister's prayer. 

That happy be our meeting, 
Safe Avafted o'er life's sea in peace, 

Where time no more is fleeting. ~ 

Chorus : Oh : brother, then prize — 



POEMS. 127 



Trust Not, Love Not, 

When the world is fair, entwining 

Many a garland for thy brow, 
When around thee wealth is shining, 

Friendship's hand is near thee now. 
But when clouds and storms shall gather 

Round thy pathway rough and drear, 
Few will cling as fond as ever, 

Few will pi'ove to thee sincere. 

Oh ! if thou canst find the treasure, 

Close the precious jewel bind ; 
Choicest blessing without measure. 

Guardian angel — rare to find. 
Speak or act, oh ! coldly never, 

Kindred spirits keenest feel ; 
Silver links the blow may sever ; 

Time the wound may never heal. 

Friendship's ties too oft are riven. 

By the slightest word or deed ; 
Oh ! trust not love's tokens given, 

Lest thy heart with anguish bleed. 
Trust not — hopes we fondly cherish. 

Crushed and wounded leave the heart. 
Love not — love's bright flowers perish, 

Bloom to wither, then depart. 

Love's sweet strains, like music flowing, 

Drink not deep their melting tone. 
Eyes that now so gently glowing. 

Beam so fondly in thine own — 
Ah ! their light — it may deceive thee ; 

Flattering smiles, oh, heed them not. 
For their coldness soon may grieve thee, 

Soon thou mayest be forgot. 



128 . , POEMS. 



Lavish not youth's tender feeling — 

Warm, confiding — keep it true, 
Ere dark shadows o'er thee stealing, 

Bitter tears thy cheek bedew. 
Trust not — change may, ere the morrow, 

Rob thy cheek of beauty's bloom ; 
Love not, it may bring the sorrow, 

Haste thee to an early tomb. 

Solemn vows are lightly spoken, 

Joys and pleasures fade and die ; 
Fondest, truest hearts are broken, 

Golden dreams like phantoms fly. 
Trust not — vows are falsely plighted — 

Lest thy rashness give thee pain ; 
Love not — " for its flowers once blighted, 

They may never bloom again." 



JProof Header ^s Lament, 

What news is this fill Is on my ear ? 

What next will to my sight appear? 

My brain doth whirl, my heart doth quake — 

Oh, that egregious mistake ! 

" Too bad ! too bad ! !" I hear them cry, 
" You might have seen with half an eye ! 
Strange! ])assiiig strange ! ! how could you make 
So plaiu, so blunderous a mistake !" 

Ah ! W'here it happened, Avhen and how, 
This way or that, no matter now ; 
Myself from blame I cannot shake — 
For there it is, that sad mistake. 



POEMS. 129 



Guilty, condemned, I trembling stand, 
With pressing- cares on eveiy hand, 
Without one single plea to make, 
For leaving such a bad mistake. 

From morn till night, from night till morn, 
At every step, weary, forlorn. 
Whether I sleep, or whether wake, 
I'm haunted still with a mistake. 

If right, no meed of praise is won, 
No more than dalij then is done ; 
If wrong, then censure I partake. 
Deserving such a gross mistake. 

How long shall I o'er this bewail ? 
" The best," 'tis said, ^' will sometimes fail ; 
Must it then peace forever break — 
Summed up, 'tis only a mistake. 

A smile is my delight to share, 
A froAvn is more than I can bear ; 
How great the sacrifice I'd make. 
If I could cease from a mistake. 

" I'll try," my motto yet shall be — 
Whate'er I hear, whate'er I see. 
And for my own and others' sakes, 
Look out betimes 7?)r all mistakes. 



Lines to H, W, S, 

On the Reception of a Rose. 

O sweet, lovely flower. 
For me didst thou bloom 

In a far distant bower, 
My path to perfume ? 



130 POEMS 



For me wast thou nourished, 
In that dear, quiet spot, 

To tell when thou flourished, 
I was not forgot ? 

Thine image, loved sister. 

In fancy I trace, 
And jov in the vision, 

To greet thine embrace ; 
But here I have never 

Thy hand clasped in mine : 
Yet round us forever, 

Affection shall twine. 

And oft this fond token 

Shall whisper to me, 
Of friendship unbroken, 

In remembrance of thee. 
Its freshness may perish ; 

But ne'er can depart 
Its fragrance I cherish 

So deep in my heart. 



Lines 

Composed by Axxie R. Smith, the day but one before 
her death. 

Oh ! shed not a tear o'er the spot where I sleep ; 

For the living and not for the dead ye may weep ; 
Why mourn for the weary who sweetly repose. 

Free in the grave from life's burden of woes ? 

I long now to rest in the lone, quiet tomb ; 

For the footsteps of Jesus have lightened its gloom. 
I die in. the hope of soon meeting again 

The friends that I love, with Him ever to reign. 



POEMS, BY URIAH SMITH. 



The WilUng and Obedient. 

If ye be willing and obedient, ye shall eat the good of 
tlie land," Isa. 1 : 19. 

Whose is a willing- heart, 

Whose is a ready hand ; 
Joyful in Jesns' cause to start, 

Joyful for him to stand ? 
Whose hreast with ardor glows, 

The conflict to begin ; 
Wnrring, but not with carnal foes, 

Wrestling with every sin ? 

Who when the cross appears, 

Hasten its weight to bear ; 
Glad, though it be through thorns and tears, 

The cross of Christ to share ? 
Who at stern duty's call, 

Unbound by selfish will. 
Meekly resign their earthly all. 

Its bidding to fulfill ? 

Who with unyielding feet, 

When storms around them Voar, 
Shrink not the scorn and hate to meet 

Which Christ their Saviour bore : 
Deeming of higher worth, 

Their Lord's reproaches now. 
Than all the cankered gold of earth, 

To which the worldlings bow ? 



132 POEMS 



Whose is a willing heart ? • 

And who obedient stand? 
To them shall Heaven its joys impart, 

To them the goodly land. 
For them the City waits, 

Unstained by woe or sin. 
And as they come, the pearly gates 

Shall ope to let them in. 



Be Not Cast Down, 

Tempted, tried, desponding one, 

Why does darkness shade thy brow ? 

Is there no all-beaming sun 

In the heavens above thee now ? 

Is the cloud of radiant light. 

Glowing round th' Etenial throne, 

Shrouded in a pall of night. 
Or in outer darkness gone ? 

Is the fount of glory dried ? 

Are the gates of mercy closed ? 
Went there ever unsupplied, 

Any who in God reposed ? 

Has his arm grown short to save ? 

Heavy is hi^ ear to hear ? 
Bids he any be a slave 

To despair or doubt or fear ? 

Then may we refuse to move, 
When iiis word and mighty ann, 

Weak and impotent shall prove. 
To deliver us from harm. 



POEMS. 133 



Then may we despondent be, 
And in him refuse to trust, 

When his throne and majesty 
Both shall crumble to the dust. 

Has not help on One been laid 
Strong to save and set us free 1 

And is there no promise made, 
In his name, of victory ? 

Then in Jesus let us trust ; 

On him stay our troubled mind 
Not presume; for God is just: 

Nor despair ; for he is kind. 



Be Faithful. 

Tune—" Be Kind to the Loved Ones at Home." 

brother, be faithful ! soon Jesus will come. 

For whom we have waited so long ; 
Oh ! soon we shall enter our glorious home. 

And join in the conqueror's song. 
brother, be faithful ! for why should we prove 

Unfaithful to him who has shown 
Such deep, such unbounded and infinite love — 

Who died to redeem us his own. 

brother, be faithful ! the city of gold. 

Prepared for the good and the blest, 
Is waiting its portals of pearl to unfold. 

And welcome thee into thy rest ; 
Then brother, prove faithful ! not long shall we stay. 

In weariness here and forlorn ; 
Time's dark night of sorrow is wearing away. 

We haste to the glorious morn. 



134 POEMS. 



brother, be faithful ! He soon will descend, 

Creation's Omnipotent King, 
While legions of angels his chariot attend, 

And palm-wreaths of victory bring. 
bi-other, be faithful ! and soon thou shalt hear 

Thy Saviour pronounce the glad Avord, 
Well done, faithful servant, thy title is clear 

To enter the joy of thy Lord. 

brother, be faithful ! eternity's years 

Shall tell for thy faithfulness now. 
When bright smiles of gladness shall scatter thy tears. 

And a coronet gleam on thy brow. 
brother, be faithful ! the promise is sure, 

That waits for the faithful and tried ; 
To reign with the ransomed, immortal and pnre, 

And ever with Jesus abide. 

■ — -^3?^^ — - 
Lines 

To J. T. and INI. T. Lane, on the death of their little Child, 
Francis M. Lane, July 25, 1858. 

Still reigns the tyrant Death in sable power ; 

Sorrow and mourning Avait at his command ; 
For teuder bud as well as blooming flower, 

Fades 'neath the touch of his relentless hand. 

And hath his summons to your hearts been spoken ? 

Hath his dark shadow crossed your threshhold o'er ? 
Hath he links of fond affection broken, 

And borne a loved one from this mortal shore ? 

So hath a floweret from your pathway faded ; 

A bright star shining o'er you set in gloom ; 
Bright rays of hope are from your vision shaded 

B}' the dark curtain of the silent tomb. 



POEMS. 135 



'Tis well to weep : stay not the bitter tears 
If thus the burdened heart may find relief; 

For this dark earth hath been six thousand years 
A vale of woe, a charnel-house of grief. 

Know then that here where dearest forms have per- 
ished, 
There's nothing true on which bur love to shed ; 
Not where death reigns can hopes of bliss be cher- 
ished, 
Which may not wither 'neath his icy tread. 

But ah ! there is land whose shores are nearing; 

The ills of earth its soil shall never bear; 
Of that bright world there stands this promise cheer- 
ing : 

Death finds no entrance — pain no victims there. 

To that fair land be now your footsteps tending ; 

Fix heart and treasure on that blissful shore, 
AVhere friends shall re-unite in joy unending, 

Nor taste the pangs of separation more. 



Passed Aivaj/, 

Passed away from earth forever, 

Free from all its cares and fears, 
She again will join us never 

While we tread this vale of tears ; 
For the turf is now her pillow, 

And she sleeps among the dead ; 
While the cypress and the willow 

Wave above her lowly bed. 
There she slumbers, calmly slumbers 

With the silent, peaceful dead. 



136 POEMS. 



With what grief and anguish riven, 

Should we see the loved depart, 
If there Avere no promise given, 

Which could soothe the wounded heart ! 
If the chains with which death binds them, 

Ne'er again should broken be ; 
And his prison which confines them. 

Ne'er be burst to set them free ; 
If forever there to leave them. 

Were our hopeless destiny. 

But a glorious day is nearing, 

Earth's long-wished-for jubilee ; 
When creation's King appeai'ing, 

Shall proclaim his people free ; 
When upborne on Love's bright pinion. 

They shall shout from land and sea, 
Death ! where is thy dark dominion ! 

Grave ! where is thy victory ! 

Then we'll meet her, gladly meet her, 

Where we'll never parted be. 



Ode. 

Written for the anniversary exercises of the Golden Branch 
Society of Phillips' Exeter Acaileuiy, June, 1850. 

Borne on in the swift course of time. 

The hour again is here, 
Which calls from us a sad adieu, 

And swells the parting tear. 
We'd fain the golden hours prolong, 

Which have so quickly past ; 
We'd fain delay the farewell song, 

And bid our union last. 



POEMS. 137 



But tlio' we grieve that some so soon 

Must leave our social band, 
We would not have you linger here, 

'Gainst duty's high demand. 
But, rather, we would bid you forth 

Into the field of life, 
To battle for immortal names, 

Like heroes in the strife. 



Advance, then, in the grand career, 

So nobly here begun ; 
Aim to accomplish life's great end. 

Until life's course is run. 
May fortune smile upon your path, 

And all your efforts bless ; 
And may her arm be ever near 

To crown you with success. 



And, as you tread your onward course. 

May virtue guide your way ; 
And wreath of fame adorn your brow, 

Which ne'er shall fade away, 
" Excelsior " will lead you on 

To posts of honor high, 
And call to mind our " holy bond," 

Of " Friendship's Sacred Tie." 



And may you prove, while on you press 

With banner wide unfurled,. 
An honor to your native land, 

A blessing to the world. 
And when at last, life's work is done, 

This recompense you'll have. 
The true and lasting fame that waits 

The Great, the Good, the Brave. 



138 POEMS. 



Ode, 

"Written for the anniversary exercises of the Golden Branch 
Society of Phillips' Exeter Academy, June, 1851. 

We've met again within these halls — 

These halls to mem'ry dear, 
Where scenes of harmonv and peace 

Have filled the by-gone year. 
But e'en while recollections fond 

Still cling around the heart, 
One bitter thought disturbs our joy : 

For we have met to part. 

Full well we know, our path through life 

Can ne'er be always bright ; 
The sAveetest hours to mortals given 

Are swiftest in their flight. 
Then let ns follow duty's call. 

With calm, nndauntcd brow. 
Nor weakly chide the stern behest, 

Which separates us now. 

Ye whom this consecrated spot 

Still sheds its blessings o'er. 
Use well the moments as they pass, 

For they return no more. 
Here you must gird your armor on, 

Survey the field of life. 
And then go forth to earn a name, 

Or perish in the strife. 

Great men have been before us here, 
Whose fame the wide world knows ; 

Excelsior still shines for us — 
The star by which they rose. 



POEMS. 139 



They're shedding now a mighty spell 

On all the paths we tread ; 
On living brows bloom laui-el wreaths, 

While cypress mourns the dead. 

Then let us form the high resolve 

To make our lives sulDlime, 
And mark a clear and noble track 

Upon the sands of time, 
And bring fresh honors to the list 

Of men and heroes all, 
Whose power is felt from pole to pole — 

The sons of Phillips' Hall. 



I^^n Conihig Home Again, 

The wheels of time I'oll ceaseless on, 

The moments glide away ; 
The hours but tell us they are gone. 

Nor lingers long the day. 
So that from friends, and home, away 

I shall not long remain, 
For soon the flying wings of time 

Will bear me home again. 



I have a home — oh ! blessed thought ! — 

Which oft I call to mind ; 
Which oft a healing balm has brought, 

And left dull care behind. 
Erom this dear home, though far away, 

I cannot long remain. 
The ties of friendship, sure and strong. 

Will bring me home again. 



140 POEMS 



In fancy's vision oft I see 

Friendship's extended hand, 
And for a moment seem to be, 

One in your happy band ; 
But recollection suffers not 

These visions to remain, 
And so to see you face to face, 

I'm coming home again. 

The boisterous waves roll rough around 

My thin and slender bark ; 
While clouds arise, and storms resound. 

And all is drear and dark. 
But out upon the swelling tide 

I shall not long remain, 
For I'm coming into harbor — 

I'm coming home again. 



Charity, 

There is a way more excellent, so traced the sacred 

pen, 
Than e'en to share the precious gifts which God 

vouchsafes to men ; 
It is to draw for every act our motive from above. 
And make our Avhole of mortal life a holocaust of 

love. 

For though the mind with all the wealth of human 
lore expand, 

Though e'en an angel's glowing words we hold at 
our command, 

If in each thought and word expressed, no charity 
abound, 

'Twill but be like tbe tinkling brass, the cymbal's hol- 
low sound. 



POEMS. 141 



And though all knowledge avc possessed, all myste- 
ries could prove, 

Had faith to bid the rugged mount to yonder sea re- 
move. 

If charity dwell not within, the all-inspiring power. 

We are but cyphers in the scale, the beings of an 
hour. 

And though our goods we freely give to meet the suf- 
ferer's need, 

And yield our bodies to the stake, the fiery flame to 
feed ; 

If charity prompt not these acts, so fair to human 
sight, 

It profits nothing in His eyes who reads the heart 
aright. 

For charity is but the name for every heavenly grace ; 
With human weakness long she bears, to anger ne'er 

gives place ; 
Her features fair with kindness glow, no envy stirs 

her breast, 
Nor e'er by boastful acts or words is inward pride 

expressed. 

She ever seeketh others' good, regardless of her own ; 
She thinks no evil, speaks no ill, by act, or look, or 

tone ; 
Not in iniquity, but truth, doth she her comfort take. 
And bears, believes, endures, and hopes, all things, 

for Jesus' sake. 

Hail, holy Charity ! bright daughter of the skies ! 
An angel from the ruins of our once fair paradise, 
Stiil lingering with our fallen race to point our feet 

above, 
And show us what a Heaven will be, where all is 

wrought in love. 



142 POEM 



In the dark places of the earth thy footsteps may we 
trace, 

By fruitful fields and verdant plains where once were 
desert wastes. 

The orphan rises up with joy thy coming steps to 
bless, 

And widows, smiling through their tears, their grate- 
ful thanks express. 

To clothe the naked, feed the poor, bestowing joy for 

pain ; 
To bring relief to those who long in suffering have 

lain ; 
To cause the sad, despondent heart to sing aloud for 

joy— 

These are thy works, sweet Charify, thy holy, blest 
employ. 

We welcome thee, Heavenly grace ! be thou our 

constant guide ; 
Let thy sweet spirit in our hearts forevermore abide. 
Help us to scatter deeds of love in all the paths we 

tread ; 
For blessing thus our fellow-men, we honor Christ 

our head. 



Lines 

On the death of William M. Smith. 

Dark 'is the hour Avhcn Death prevails, 
And triumphs o'er the just — 

A painful void within the breast, 
When dust goes back to dust; 

And solemn is the pall, the bier, 

That bears tlicm from our presence here. 



POEMS. 143 



But there's a bright, a glorious hope, 
That scatters death's dark gloom ; 

It cheers the saddened spirits up, 
It gilds the Christian's tomb ; 

It brings the resurrection near, 

When those Ave love shall re-appear. 

Then mourn we not as those whose hopes 

With fleeting life depart ; 
For we have heard' a voice from Heaven, 

To every stricken heart : 
Blest are the dead, forever blest, 
Who from henceforth in Jesus rest. 

With kind regard the Lord beholds 

His saints when called to die ; 
And precious in his holy sight 

Their sacred dust shall lie, 
Till all these storms of life are o'er. 
And they shall rise to die no more. 

A few more days and we shall meet 

The loved, whose toil is o'er, 
And plant with joy our bounding feet 

On Canaan's radiant shore ; 
Where, free from all earth's cares and fears 
We'll part no more through endless years. 



The New Year, 1871* 

Why hail we thus each new-born year, 

With voice of joy and scenes of mirth ? 
What room for gay and festive cheer, 
While woe and darkness span the earth ? 
While sin and suffering, pain and death, still throw. 
Their baleful shadow over all below % 



144 POEMS. 



Earth trembles at the cannon's roar, 

War's murderous visage scours the plain ; 
Its fairest spots are drenched with gore, 
Its fruitful fields are piled with slain. 
And what are all these slow-revolving years, 
But funeral pageants of distress and tears ? 

Contagions spread their wings of pall, 

Fierce tempests rage with blasting breath, 
And earthquake throes, engulfing all, 
Make short and sure the way to death. 
No peace, no safety, no enduring cheer, 
To him who builds his hopes and treasures here. 

Yet glad we hail each New Year's morn ; 

For from the great high throne of Heaven 
A royal fiat forth has goiie, 

A glorious .word to earth is given : 
Behold, says He who looks creation through. 
Where sin has marred my works, I make anew. 

New earth to smile before his face, 

New heavens in crystal beauty dressed. 
New years to run a guiltless race, 
New joys for each immortal breast. 
New flowers upspringing from the sinless sod. 
New waters sparkling from the throne of God. 

New bodies for these feeble forms, 

New life from e'en the moldering tomb, 
New skies unrent by raging storms, 
New beauty, new unfading bloom. 
New scenes the eternal era to begin. 
Of peace for war, of righteousness for sin. 



POEMS. 145 



Speed then away, O tardy years ! 

Fly quickly, hours that intervene ! 
Groaning we Avait the time when tears 
Shall be but things that once have been. 
Dawn, thou blest morn, so long in promise given, 
The glorious glad New Year of God and Heaven. 



Almost to the Beautiful Land. 

Almost to the beautiful land ! 

This be the watchword to cheer thee, 
When o'er thee dark temptests expand, 

And dangers and trials are near thee. 
Then from this perilous way, 

Look up to the glory before us, 
Which with unglimmering ray. 

Like a bright bow of promise bends o'er us. 
Only a few more seasons 

Of watching and weariness here, 
Ere the day-star arises. 

Ere the day-dawn appear. 

Almost to the beautiful land ! 

Where the pilgrim may rest him forever, 
And bask on the golden strand 

Of the crystal and flowing river. 
Where the fadeless crown awaiteth. 

For the cross which here we bore ; 
And the glory ne'er abateth. 

And sorrow is known no more. 
Only a few more efforts 

To toil up the rugged hight, 
Ere we reach the glorious summit. 

And faith is lost in sight, 
10 



146 POEMS. 



Almost to the beautiful land ! 

Shall we grow weary then ? Never ! 
Lift up the faltering hand, 

Strengthen the feeble endeavor. 
Only a few more mornings 

Allotted to laboring here, 
Only a few more warnings 

To fall on the sinner's ear ; 
Only a few more conflicts 

To wage in the struggle of life, 
Then the sweet victory cometh, 

That endeth the toilsome strife. 

Almost to the beautiful land ! 

Shall we lose courage now ? Never ! 
Bold in the conflict stand, 

Faint not in spirit nor waver. 
"VVoe now to him who shall suffer 

Earth's tinsel to blind his eyes ; 
Woe unto him who fainteth, 

In sight of the glorious prize. 
Up ! for the moments hasten. 

And the King is himself at hand : 
Nene thee with this glad Avatch^\'Ord — 

Almost to the beautiful land ! 



''Thei/ Shall he Mine,'' 

Mai. 3 : 16, 17. 

They shall be mine in the coming day, 
AVhen I shall gather my chosen ones ; 

When the Lord shall rise'to the spoil and prey. 
And the year of Zion's redemption comes. 

They shall be mine ! the chosen few 
Who dure to honor my holy name. 

Who vield their hearts to their Maker, true, 



POEMS. 147 



And bear his cross nor heed the shame, 
And turn not back for the scoffers' boasts — 
They shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts. 

They shall be mine in the fearful hour 

When heaven shall part as a shattered scroll ; 
And earth shall reel from Jehovah's power 

And death shall seize on the sinner's soul ; 
Then will the Loi'd to his servants bring 

A crown for the cross which here they bore ; 
And loud their shouts of joy will ring ; 

And then shall be heard and feared no more 
The critic's sneer, and the scoffer's boasts, 
When saints shall be owned by the Lord of hosts. , 

They shall be mine in whom alone 

Is power to save and to destroy ; 
And as one spares his only son. 

So will I spare my people's joy. 
When the treach'roiis hopes of the wicked flee, 

And pestilence wastes the sons of men, 
My servants true shall find, in me, 

A refuge and a shelter then ; 
And skeptics all shall cease their boasts 
In terror for the Lord of hosts. 

Then who would shrink from the lowly band, 

Who make their peace with the King of kings 1 
He holds the Avorlds in his mighty hand. 

He rules o'er all created things ; 
His arm alone can bear ns np 

When earth is drinking her dregs of woe ; 
His mercy alone is ground for hope, 

His chosen only will safety know — 
Ah ! then who cares for the scoffer's boasts, 
If he may be owned by the Lord of hosts. 



148 POEMS. 



In that dread day, when the proud and great 

For rocks and mountains shall vainly call, 
And kin;;s and nobles, in high estate, 

Shall be robed alike in a funeral pall ; 
When the Judge appears in the parting sky, 

And the angel-reapers from glory come 
To bear the good to their realms on high, 

And all thy saints are gathered home, 
From the isles afar, and the distant coasts — 
Let me be thine, O Lord of hosts ! 



The Marriage Supper of the Larnb, 

TrxE — Tyrolese Evening Hymn. 

Come, come, come, 
Come to the marriage feast 

Prepared for saints above ; 
The Lord noAv bids his guests 

To the banquet-room of love. 
Oh ! why should the tinseled toys 

Of this earth allure us here, 
While pure, immortal joys, 

Wait us in a happier sphere. 

Chorus — Come, come, come, 

Come to the marriage feast. 
Prepared for saints above ; 
The Lord now bids his guests 
To the banqtiet-room of love. 

Come, come, come. 
Soon will the day ])e o'er, 

And hope's last hour be gone; 
And mercy's voice no more 

The day of grace prolong. 



Life yet we may secure ; 

And the warning note is given, 
Make now your title sure 

To a lasting home in Heaven. 

Come, come, come, 
The weary pilgrim there 

" Lays staff and sandals down " 
A conqueror's palm to bear. 

And an angel's glittering crown. 
Then all the scoffs we've borne, 

While this gloomy vale we've trod, 
" To lasting joys shall turn," 

In the citv of our God. 



The Lord Will Come. 

Tell me the Loi'd will come, 
That he will soon appear ; 

This world is not my home, 
I have no treasure here. 

The hope of joys that soon shall be 

Is what alone can comfort me. 

Tell me the Lord will come — 
I love the cheei'ing sound ; 

There's hope and joy and peace 
In that sweet promise found ; 

For then our ills, whate'er our lot, 

Will all be gone, and all forgot. 

Tell me the Lord will come, 

'Tis music in my ears ; 
I would not longer roam 

In this dark vale of tears, 



150 POEMS. 



Wliere tempests g^athei' o'er our way, 
And darkness hides the light of day. 

Tell me the Lord will come ; 

In that victorious hour, 
The dark and silent tomb 

Must yiekl its frloomy power ; 
For he shall call his slumbeiing dead, 
Forever from their dusty bed. 

Tell me the Lord will come, 

He whom our souls do love, 
To take his exiles home 

To their own land above : 
In those bright mansions of the blest, 
Is where alone our souls can rest. 

Ay, soon the Lord will come ! 

We are not left forlorn, 
Without some cheering tone, 

Some promise of the morn ; 
Some token from our absent Friend, 
That soon our pilgrimage will end. 

Ay, soon the Lord will come ! 

He will not suffer long 
The triumph of our foes. 

The reign of sin and wrong. 
With coui-age then still breast the storm, 
For God has spoken and will perform. 

Yea, soon the Lord will come. 

And glad deliverance bring. 
And crown with lasting joy 

All who have honored him. 
When heaven and earth abashed shall flee 
The glories of his majesty. 





IN 

POEMS BY ] 

* p 

All Trials Cease 

Always Rejoicing 

Appeal to the Sinner, 

Kaptisin, 


D 

age. 
25 
63 
87 
14 
47 

6 
50 
48 
13 
16 
15 
85 
59 
21 
90 
94 
78 
93 
70 
44 
56 
40 
11 

5 

30 

36 

35 
34 
66 
37 
7 
68 
12 
17 
53 
38 
18 


EX. 

BEKAH SMITH. 

I 
Preparation for Heaven,. . . 

Return unto the Lord, 

Safety in the Lord, 

Submission, 


age. 

80 
82 
9 
43 
57 
49 
, 92 
60 
95 
91 
58 
73 
41 
84 
75 
54 
74 

88 

72 

77 

22 

61 

65 . 

20 

69 

27 

26 

31 

33 

27 

46 

19 

55 

69 

51 

45 

39 

71 


Brother, Live, 

Christian Love, 


Sustaining Grace, 

The Advent, 


Christian Submission 

Condense, 

Deny Thyself, 


The Bond of Peace 

The Christian's Confidence 

The Christian 's Desire 

The Christian's Triumph,.. 

The Circle Broken, 

The Coming Day, 

The Darkness of Despair,.. 

The Enemy's Power 

The Health Institute, 

The Hour of Judgment, . . . 
The Last Message of Mercy 
The Latter Rain, 


Depart from Sin, 

Despair of the Lost, 

Divine Love, 

Domestic Afflictions, 

Dying Words, 


Early Recollections, 

Emptiness of Earth, 

False Fame and True, 

For a Gathering of the Aged 

God, the Comforter, 

Go Forward 


The Love of Many is Waxec 

Cold, • 

The Race and Warfare, .... 

The Remnant Church, 

The Slave of Appetite, 

The Warfare, 

The Work of Reform, 

The Vanity of Earth, 

They who Love the Law,. . 

To Aaron A. Smith, 

To Ellena Boutwell, 

To My Mother, 


Have Mercy on Yourselves 

Home for the Weary , 

It was True, 


Life's Conflict, 

Lines on the Death of Annie 
R. Smith, 


Lines on the Death of my 
Husband, 

Lines Read at a Gathering 
of Old People 

Lines to a M other, 

Live for God, 

Look up, 

Love not the World, 

My Sheep Hear my Voice,. . 

No Resting Here, 


To Samuel, 

Trust, 

Trust all to God, 

We Love 

Where is Thy God ? 

Who is without Fault 

Why Art Thou Cast Down, 

Will You be a Pilgrim, 

Worldly Sorrow, 


Old, but Young 

Overcome and Live, 

Overcoming Sin, 

Passing the Gate, 





Brief Sketch of the Life, Last Sickness 
AND Death of Annie R. Smith, 97 



POEMS BY ANNIE R. SMITH. 



Page. 

Be Cheerful, 124 

Lines composed the day but 

one before her death,. 130 
Lines on the Death of Lo- 
renzo D. Upliam 122 

Lines on the "Wreck of the 

Minot Ledge L'thouse,109 
Lines to an Orphan Child,. .111 

Lines to H. N. S., 129 

Ode to the Winds, 108 



Page. 

Oh ! Let me be on the 

Stormy Sea, 113 

Proof Header's Lament, 128 

The Clouds, 117 

The Exiled Prisoner, 114 

The Friends of my Youth,. .107 

The Sister's Devotion, 125 | 

The Unchanged, 119 

ToM.D. B., 123 

Trust Not, Love Not, 127 



POEMS BY URIAH SMITH. 



Page. 

Almost to the Beautiful 

Land, 145 

Anniversary Ode, 1850 136 

Anniversary Ode, 1851, 138 

Be Faithful, 133 

Be not Cast Down, 132 

Charitv,..' 140 



Page. 

Lines on the Death of Wm. 

M. Smith, 142 

Passed Awav 135 

The Lord Will Come, 149 

The Marriage Supper of the 

Lamb, 148 

The New Year, 1871 143 



I'm Coming Home Again,. .139 The Willing and Obedient,. .131 

Lines on the Death of F. M. They Shall be Mine, 146 

Lane,....* 134 1 



/ syu^ 



